"THE     SIDE -DOOR     OPENED     SOFTLY  .  .   .  AND     ADOLPH     BREEN 
STOOD  BEFORE  HER"  (see  page  144). 


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THE  CASE  OF 
PAUL  BREEN 

By 
Atttljfltttj  (Uubor,  U1L1SL 

Illustrated  by 
Sjpttrg  SJolly 

//BlS^ 

w 

loBtntt  :::  £.  (£.  JJagj  ^ 
Olampattg  :::  Hbrrrtxt 

*###-£"##:^^ 

Copyright, 
BY  L.  C.  PAGE  &  COMPANY 

(INCORPORATED) 

Entered  at  Stationers'  Hall,  London 
All  rights  reserved 


Fust  Impression,  June,  1911 


Electrotyptd  *nd  Pri*ttd  by 
THE  COLONIAL  PRESS 
C.  H.  S  intends  &*  Co.,  Boston,  U.S.A. 


3  5*3? 


CONTENTS 


I.  THE  COMING  or  JOHN  STRAIN  . 

II.  EXIT  MARY  LANE        .      V*'  . 

III.  THE  BREEN  FAMILY    .       .       * 

IV.  THE  SEAL  BROKEN      .       .       , 
V.  NEIL  BREEN'S  WILL  ...       .      . 

VI.  THE  THREE  CHILDREN       .       . 

VII.  THE  WORK  OF  AN  INVENTOR    . 

VIII.  ED  FLYAWAY  AND  SOCI'TY  DAN 

IX.  THE  CORONER'S  VERDICT   . 

X.  THE  ATTORNEY  FOR  THE  PEOPLE 

XI.  PAUL'S  TRIAL        .       .... 

XII.  CIVILLY  DEAD       .       i       . 

XIII.  PROFESSOR  TANCREDI  .       ... 

XIV.  IN  A  NEW  WORLD       .       . 
XV.  THE  MISSING  PAIR   '  .      ,    •.,. 

XVI.  THE  BLIND  LEADING  THE  BLIND 

XVII.  ON  TO  WASHINGTON    . 

XVIII.  IN  THE  HANDS  OF  THE  EXPERT 

XIX.  THREADING  THE  MAZE 

XX.  THE  COUNTER  PLOTTING    . 

XXI.  THE  SHADOWINGS 

XXII.  THE  USELESS  WARNING      . 

XXIII.  OUT  OF  His  OWN  MOUTH  . 


PAGE 
I 

29 

45 
61 

74 
io5 

121 
136 
152 

168 

183 
197 
213 
228 
244 
260 

273 
288 
302 
316 
330 


VI 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

XXIV.  PAYING  THE  PENALTY 

XXV.  FACING  THE  Music   .       .       . 

XXVI.  THE  PARDON      .       .       .       , 

XXVII.  PREPARING  FOR  THE  STRUGGLE 

XXVIII.  THE  CASE  AT  ISSUE  . 

XXIX.  THE  STORY  or  THE  WITNESSES 

XXX.  A  CHANCE  IN  A  THOUSAND 


348 
363 
379 
393 
410 
424 
441 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


"  THE  SIDE  -  DOOR  OPENED  SOFTLY   .    .    .  AND  ADOLPH 

BREEN  STOOD  BEFORE  HER  "  (see  page  144)  Frontispiece 

"  SHE   SLOWLY   STRODE   AWAY  " IO 

"BUT     A     SILVER  -  BOUND     NOTE  -  BOOK   .    .    .   KEPT 

DRAWING  HER  ON  "          .          .          .          .          .          .       IO6 

"  '  TAKE  us  AT  ONCE  TO  WHERE  PAUL  BREEN  is  HID, 

AND  WE'LL  LET  YOU  GO  '  "  .  .  .  .  .  243 
"  '  YOUR  SON?  MY  GOD,  WHAT  DO  YOU  MEAN?  ' : '  .  354 
" '  GET  BACK  FOR  GOD'S  SAKE,  OR  YOU'LL  BE 

HURT!'  "  .       .       .       .       .       .       .       .     .  ,     458 


vii 


THE 
CASE  OF    PAUL   BREEN 


CHAPTER    I 

THE    COMING   OF    JOHN    STRAIN 

ABIGAIL  ALICE  HAZLETT,  the  Judge's  only  child, 
hurried  from  the  front  window,  opera-glass  in  hand, 
and  peered  curiously  over  the  circular  balustrade. 

She  had  espied  from  afar,  coming  across  the  park, 
and  now  watched  passing  through  the  hall  to  the 
library,  the  new  student,  John  Strain  —  tall,  burly, 
vigorous,  fresh  from  the  country;  with  rugged 
countenance  and  fierce  blue  eyes  under  a  mass  of 
unruly  yellow  hair  —  the  very  exemplification  of 
health,  energy,  will,  strength,  in  fine,  of  all  the 
qualities  that  she  admired  and  envied  because  she 
had  them  not. 

Abigail  Alice  was  sallow  and  sickly.  Discontent 
had  laid  heavy  lines  across  her  face.  Her  sparse 

1 


2          THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

hair,  tautly  drawn  above  her  ears,  gave  promise 
of  settled  spinsterhood.  Though  the  petted  and 
pampered  daughter  of  Hamlin's  foremost  man,  she 
already  knew  the  agonies  of  neglect.  While  she 
had  waited  and  hoped,  her  girl  associates  had  been 
chosen;  while  she  had  dreamed  in  vain,  their 
dreams  had  been  realized.  Invalidism  had  not  de 
veloped  true  womanliness  in  her;  it  had  made  her 
both  sensitive  and  selfish.  The  more  patent  her 
defects,  the  more  imperious  became  her  desires. 
Alone  much  of  the  time,  reading  avidly  and  indis 
criminately,  she  fretted  under  the  disappointment 
of  ideals  proving  mere  mirages,  until  the  coming 
of  this  new  student  widened  and  lightened  her 
horizon. 

Though  she  had  met  him  only  once  or  twice,  and 
that  within  a  few  days,  her  fancy  multiplied  in 
definitely  both  time  and  opportunity.  There  had 
been,  before  his  arrival,  other  students,  anemic,  be 
spectacled,  predestined  for  early  practice  before  the 
Great  Assizes ;  but  the  contemptuous  indifference 
with  which  she  had  treated  these  deserted  her  in  the 
presence  of  John  Strain.  The  grasp  of  his  great 
hand  oppressed  her  mind  long  after  her  fingers  had 
ceased  tingling.  Her  nerves  quivered  in  response 
to  the  careless  force  of  his  personality;  her  eyes 
lowered  before  the  normal  power  of  his  gaze,  and 
memory  but  intensified  their  influence.  Here,  at 


COMING  OF  JOHN   STRAIN  3 

length,  was  a  man  fit  to  be,  fit  to  do;  a  viking,  a 
conqueror,  knowing  and  taking  his  own.  Weakness 
paid  tribute  to  strength,  sentimentality  to  logical 
purpose;  and  Abigail  Alice  Hazlett  was  fascinated. 

She  had  observed  him  closely  from  the  window  as 
he  came  from  the  office  on  some  commission  for  her 
father,  his  coat  flying,  his  hands  and  feet  swinging 
and  thumping ;  brushing  aside  passers-by  instead  of 
turning  out  for  them,  bursting  his  way  through  the 
park  as  he  would  surely  burst  it  through  life.  He 
was  so  natural,  so  sufficient,  so  absolutely  free  from 
artificial  defences  —  no  wonder  the  girl  was  ab 
sorbed.  Would  he  not  love  as  he  lived,  and  serve 
as  he  loved  ?  And  so,  she  waited,  eagerly,  patiently, 
by  the  balustrade,  for  a  parting  glimpse  when  he 
should  pass  out. 

The  library  door  shut  with  a  slam  that  jarred  the 
house.  Abigail  Alice  leaned  over,  her  tremulous 
hands  clutching  the  rail.  The  opera-glass  slipped. 
It  fell,  eluding  her  miserable,  her  ineffectual  fingers. 
It  shot  down  and  smashed  on  the  marble  pavement, 
just  grazing  the  prominent  nose  and  chin  that  gave 
so  much  individuality  to  the  student's  face. 

John  Strain  looked  down  and  scowled ;  he  looked 
up  and  smiled  patronizingly,  as  at  a  mischievous 
child.  "  A  miss  is  as  good  as  a  mile,"  he  said,  dis 
missing  the  incident  with  a  shrug. 

Abigail  Alice  faltered,  pale,  despairing.    Was  this 


4          THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

the  end  before  there  had  been  a  beginning?  Must 
she  be  ignored,  before  she  had  been  understood? 
With  a  sudden  resolve,  she  hastened  down  the  broad 
stairway.  She  snatched  a  rose  from  the  cluster  at 
her  belt  and  handed  it  to  him.  "  This  is  what  I 
meant  to  throw  to  you,"  she  whispered;  and  back 
she  tripped,  prettier  for  the  moment  than  ever  be 
fore  or  afterward. 

Strain  gazed  stupidly  on  the  flower;  then  he 
thrust  it  into  his  pocket.  "  Thanks,"  he  shouted, 
saluting  with  two  fingers. 

He  walked  away  slowly  through  the  park.  His 
errand  was  over,  he  was  free  for  the  afternoon. 
But  there  was  thinking  for  him  to  do,  and,  with  him, 
thinking  was  a  serious  matter.  No  inspiration  ever 
favored  this  young  man  with  its  magic.  Whatever 
his  mind  evolved  was  wrought  as  from  harsh,  re 
luctant  iron.  So  he  sat  himself  on  a  secluded  bench, 
and  hammered  out  painfully  from  past  and  present 
his  all-important  future. 

Thus  far  there  had  been  no  positive  feminine  in 
fluence  in  Strain's  life.  Once  and  again,  it  is  true, 
a  woman  had  tempted  him  momentarily  from  his 
path ;  but  that  path  had  not  swerved  a  hair's-breadth 
in  its  direction  for  her  smile  or  word.  To  him, 
woman  was  a  negligible  quantity,  a  concomitant  of 
a  household,  perhaps,  but  never  a  comrade,  and, 
above  all,  never  a  counsellor.  What  he  was  to  be, 


COMING  OF  JOHN  STRAIN  5 

that  he  would  be,  by  and  through  himself.  After 
ward,  as  he  might  have  a  fast  horse,  a  fine  home, 
so,  too,  might  he  have  a  wife.  That  was  all  there 
was  about  it. 

Now,  however,  he  saw  advantage,  and  facts  sup 
plied  the  lack  of  imagination.  The  Judge's  daughter, 
whom  the  men  in  the  office  described  as  so  haughty 
and  disagreeable,  had  gone  out  of  her  way  to  honor 
him.  This  was  much,  but  there  was  more,  far  more. 
What  had  she  been  doing  at  the  balustrade  with  the 
opera-glass  in  her  hand?  Had  he  not  noticed  the 
flitting  of  a  white  form  from  the  window  as  he  came 
up  the  walk  to  the  house?  She  had  watched  his 
coming  and  was  awaiting  his  going  —  that  was  it! 
Why? 

Because,  of  course,  like  any  other  girl,  she  had 
taken  a  liking  to  him.  He  had  had  his  experiences ; 
he  could  see  through  a  mill-stone  as  well  as  another. 
Very  well  then;  since  such  were  the  conditions,  he 
would  draw  fair,  rational  conclusions  from  them. 
As  if  from  a  high  tower,  he  saw  the  prospect  before 
him. 

As  if  from  a  high  tower,  John  Strain  saw  favor 
and  merit  combine  to  give  him  success.  He  saw 
himself  win  and  wed  the  Judge's  daughter,  with  the 
Judge's  consent.  He  saw  himself  become  the 
Judge's  confidential  clerk  and  then  the  Judge's 
partner.  He  saw  the  Judge,  an  elderly  man  already, 


6          THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

grow  more  aged  and  feeble.  John  Strain  now  oc 
cupies  the  Judge's  private  office,  and  takes  the 
Judge's  chair  at  the  board  of  the  bank  directory, 
and  collects  the  rents  and  interest  from  the  houses 
and  securities  that  the  Judge  had  builded  and  ac 
cumulated,  while  the  Judge  sleeps  with  his  fathers. 
Then  follow  notable  victories  before  the  bar,  of 
which  he  is  the  acknowledged  leader,  and  yet  the 
prospect  is  widening.  There  are  public  services 
well  rendered,  there  is  political  work  shrewdly  done. 
His  foot  is  on  the  ladder  of  fame;  he  is  mounting, 
ever  mounting.  First,  district  attorney,  then  Gov 
ernor  of  the  State ;  why  may  not  the  people  call  him 
higher,  even  to  the  Presidential  chair? 

Well,  indeed,  did  facts  with  their  deductions  serve 
John  Strain  in  place  of  imagination ;  and  well  con 
tent  was  he  with  the  picture  —  though  sitting  in  the 
background,  in  the  background  always,  but  always 
there,  was  the  unamiable,  unattractive  figure  of 
Abigail  Alice  Hazlett,  to  whom  this  glory  must 
primarily  be  due. 

But  was  there  anything,  was  there  anybody,  that 
might  prevent  these  facts  from  working  out  their 
logical  conclusions'?  No  Alnaschar  was  John 
Strain.  If  his  basket  of  china  were  imperilled  it 
would  not  be  from  his  own  unguarded  movement. 
Rather,  far  rather,  he  was  alert,  prepared,  to  fend 
off  any  danger,  whatever  its  source  or  nature. 


COMING  OF  JOHN   STRAIN  7 

Facing,  then,  the  inevitable,  he  answered  both  ques 
tions  affirmatively,  yet  with  a  dogged  shake  of  the 
head. 

Yes;  there  was  something,  the  memory  of  which 
filled  him  with  mortification.  He  had  been  indis 
creet.  He  had  gone  on  a  midnight  frolic,  and,  to 
appease  the  scruples  of  his  companion,  Mary  Lane, 
had  uttered  vows  of  marriage  in  the  presence  of  a 
witness. 

Yes;  there  was  some  one  who  might  be  an  ob 
stacle;  yes,  indeed,  there  was.  Mary  was  still 
living  in  the  village  where  they  both  had  been  born ; 
she  believed  in  him  and  was  waiting  for  him; 
within  the  week  he  had  been  with  her,  and  she  had 
talked  of  the  time  when  they  should  be  known  as 
man  and  wife. 

All  this  was  bad.  John  Strain  groaned  as  he 
admitted  it ;  but  what  about  the  other  side,  the  win 
ning  side?  Well,  the  only  witness  to  that  foolish 
transaction  was  dead.  Mary  herself  was  of  little 
account;  her  only  relative,  an  aunt,  poor  and  un- 
respected,  her  own  reputation  injured  by  natural 
frivolity. 

Granted,  then,  that  he  as  a  lawyer  knew  that 
pledge  had  constituted  a  lawful  marriage  under 
the  statutes  of  the  State;  what  of  it?  Mary  Lane 
did  not  know  it;  she  had  cavilled,  hesitated,  almost 
refused  to  consider  it  sufficient.  So  much  the  better 


8          THE  CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

his  knowing;  since  knowledge,  exclusive  knowl 
edge,  was  power.  So  he  debated,  so  he  decided; 
not  mitigating  the  cruel,  cowardly  wrong,  but  ac 
cepting  it  as  the  one  and  only  means  to  the  one  and 
only  end  —  his  successful  career. 

The  sunlight,  sifting  through  the  interlacing 
branches  overhead,  yielded  a  little  to  a  shadow. 
John  Strain  looked  up  from  his  cogitations.  The 
woman  whom  he  had  determined  to  repudiate  stood 
beside  him. 

"  Oh,  John,"  cried  Mary  Lane,  her  pretty  face 
all  aglow  with  joy,  "  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you. 
When  I  came  to  town  for  a  bit  of  shopping,  I  was 
hoping  that  we  might  meet." 

"  Yes,"  returned  Strain,  "  it  is  pleasant  to  see 
an  old  friend  from  home." 

"A  friend,  John?" 

"  Well,  acquaintance,  then,  if  you  like  that  better." 

"  Acquaintance!  " 

"  Sit  down,"  he  commanded,  shortly.  "  I  want 
to  talk  seriously  with  you.  You're  not  a  fool, 
though  the  Lord  knows  you've  often  acted  foolishly 
enough." 

A  dull  gray  ness  drove  the  roses  from  Mary  Lane's 
face,  and,  as  she  sat  on  the  edge  of  the  bench,  she 
drew  her  wrap  closely  about  her  as  if  she  were 
cold.  "  What  is  it,  John?  "  she  faltered.  "  I  don't 
understand  you." 


COMING  OF  JOHN   STRAIN  9 

He  looked  her  steadily,  strongly,  in  the  eyes.  "  I 
have  been  planning  my  career,"  he  answered  slowly. 
"  It  will  be  a  difficult  one  at  best ;  with  you,  it  would 
be  impossible.  '  Acquaintance '  was  the  proper 
word,  for  that  is  the  most  you  can  ever  be  to 
me." 

"  But  I  am  your  wife,  we  were  married,  you 
know  we  were,"  cried  the  girl,  in  high,  piercing 
tones. 

"  Nonsense,  utter  nonsense,"  Strain  retorted, 
frowning  heavily.  "  It  was  a  lark ;  you  know  it 
was  only  a  lark;  why,  you  said  so  yourself.  Now, 
listen ;  this  is  the  last  time  I'll  ever  talk  it  over  with 
you.  There  is  nothing,  absolutely  nothing,  between 
us.  I  was  only  easing  you  along,  and  you  knew 
that,  too;  you  know  you  did.  Don't  tell  me; 
what  business  did  you  have  to  go  with  me  in  the 
first  place?  You  have  no  proof;  Remsen  is  dead; 
there  is  no  other  witness;  what,  then,  can  you  do? 
Tell  your  lies,  if  you  like,  you  can't  hurt  me.  Do 
you  think  your  word  could  stand  against  mine? 
Do  you  suppose  people  would  believe  that  I  would 
throw  away  everything  for  your  sake,  and  without 
it  being  necessary  either?  Oh,  no,  no,  my  lady; 
they  know  you  too  well;  there  have  been  too  many 
tales  about  you  for  that." 

"  John,  John,  as  I  live,  before  Almighty  God,  you 
are  the  only  one  —  " 


10        THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

"  Very  well ;  let  it  go  at  that ;  I've  no  wish  to 
disparage  you.  But,  if  I'm  attacked,  I  shall  fight, 
and  then  you'll  see  —  " 

"  But  John,  dear  John,  you  don't  understand,  you 
don't  know  what  I'm  beginning  to  fear  —  " 

"  I  don't  want  to  know.  A  woman,  who  doesn't 
have  her  way,  always  fears.  That  for  your  whim 
sies  !  "  and  he  snapped  his  fingers. 

Mary  gasped  and  sank  back,  silent,  benumbed, 
her  emotions  paralyzed  by  the  unyielding,  insistent 
obduracy  of  the  man.  Then  her  natural  gaiety 
asserted  itself,  urged  on  by  that  poor  pride  which 
so  often  masquerades  as  self-respect. 

She  sprang  to  her  feet  and  tossed  her  head  in  a 
reckless  fashion.  "  Don't  worry,  you  poor  fellow," 
she  said,  "  it  might  make  you  ill.  I  don't  amount 
to  much,  as  you  say,  but  I  won't  give  folks  the 
chance  to  say  what  they  already  think.  Perhaps 
you're  right,  too.  Perhaps  I  didn't  believe.  But 
I  hoped,  John;  I  hoped,  because  I  was  fond  of  you. 
Yes,  I'll  go  my  way,  though  God  only  knows  where 
it  may  lead  "  —  and  she  laughed  as  those  laugh, 
too  sorrowful,  too  desperate,  to  weep.  "  I'll  go  my 
way,  and  you  and  your  career  will  be  safe  for  all  of 
me.  Perhaps  in  the  end  you  may  be  no  better  off 
than  I  for  this  wicked,  base  beginning!" 

There  was  ordinarily  nothing  impressive  about 
Mary  Lane's  rather  vapid  prettiness;  but,  as  she 


SHE    SLOWLY     STRODE   AWAY. 


COMING  OF  JOHN   STRAIN  11 

slowly  strode  away,  the  flash  of  her  eyes,  the  poise 
of  her  head,  the  carriage  of  her  form,  reflected, 
faintly,  evanescently,  the  grandeur  of  a  passion,  un- 
blunted  by  outrage,  unalloyed  by  selfishness. 

Strain  watched  her  moodily  as  she  passed  down 
the  path,  as  her  stateliness  dwindled  in  the  distance, 
as  there  came  to  her  closely  wrapped  figure  that 
pathetic  little  stop  which  so  clearly  tells  that  the 
heart  is  bleeding.  He  took  the  rose  from  his  pocket, 
and  tore  it  savagely  into  bits. 

"  Damn  life!  "  he  muttered;  "  it's  nothing  but  a 
fight !  There  must  be  the  killed  and  the  missing !  " 

But  he  never  hesitated  in  his  purpose.  His  mind 
was  too  single,  too  self-contained,  for  reflections 
which  itself  had  pronounced  idle. 

As  if  Mary  Lane  had  never  existed,  he  paid  per 
sistent  court  to  the  Judge's  daughter.  These  atten 
tions  were  graciously  received.  The  Judge  himself, 
already  impressed  by  Strain's  qualities,  gave*  ready 
assent.  Within  the  year,  the  marriage  took  place. 

Truly,  it  might  have  been  that  Mary  Lane  had 
never  existed;  for,  as  Strain  put  her  out  of  his 
mind,  so,  too,  did  she  drop  out  of  his  life.  He  never 
saw  her,  he  never  heard  from  her.  In  his  infrequent 
visits  to  the  village  of  their  birth  her  name  was 
rarely  mentioned,  and  then  only  in  a  slighting  way 
as  of  one  whose  death  or  disappearance  is  no  loss. 
From  being  a  casual  memory,  she  faded  into  a 


12        THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN  , 

chance  recollection ;  finally,  her  pretty  face  was  com 
pletely  hidden  behind  the  clouds  of  time. 

But  the  figure  in  the  background  did  not  fade; 
it  grew  more  and  more  prominent  from  its  immobil 
ity.  What  was  unattractive  and  unamiable,  even 
though  softened  by  the  first  glow  of  womanly  hopes, 
became  more  and  more  unattractive  and  unamiable 
when  those  hopes  were  blighted  by  consistent  in 
difference. 

Abigail  Alice  Strain  only  too  soon  came  to  realize 
that  she  was  a  necessary  concomitant  to  her  hus 
band's  career,  but  never  his  comrade,  and,  above 
all,  never  his  counsellor  or  friend.  The  strength, 
the  forcefulness,  the  fitness  to  be  and  to  do,  from 
which  she  had  fondly  argued  love  and  service,  were 
in  no  wise  devoted  to  so  negligible  a  quantity  as  her 
self.  This  knowledge  made  her  bitter,  though  she 
would  not,  if  she  could,  have  changed  her  lot.  There 
was  something  in  her  rights  as  a  wife  that  gratified 
her.  There  she  was,  there  she  would  remain.  At 
least,  while  he  was  hers,  he  was  no  other's.  A  sense 
of  ownership,  of  possession,  developed  with  the 
years,  and,  in  its  turn,  produced  a  jealousy  that  fed 
upon  itself.  That  she  found  no  cause  for  suspicion 
was  a  stronger  reason  for  greater  suspicion.  As, 
that  day,  she  had  espied  him  coming  to  the  house 
through  the  park,  so  now  she  covertly  watched  him 
as  he  advanced  upon  his  career,  finding,  if  not  de 


COMING  OF  JOHN   STRAIN          13 

light,  at  least  sufficient  occupation  in  tantalizing  her 
spirit  with  theories  and  situations,  imaginary,  but 
yet  possible,  and  therefore  worthy  of  a  reckoning. 
That  she  thus  contended  against  a  state  of  absorp 
tion  in  material  matters,  the  human  condition  least 
fecund  of  intrigue,  while  it  did  not  disconcert  her 
purpose,  did  render  her  aspirations  the  more  base 
and  degenerate;  until,  if  their  real  motives  could 
have  been  demonstrated  from  disordered  thought 
and  action,  it  would  have  appeared  as  shame  for  him 
and  even  for  herself. 

But  in  this  state  of  selfish  absorption,  John  Strain 
gave  no  heed  to  his  wife's  mental  or  spiritual  proc 
esses.  He  knew  only  that  she  was  the  more  dis 
agreeable,  and  so,  as  she  had  feared  he  would  do 
when  he  had  waved  away  the  dropping  of  the  opera- 
glass,  he  pushed  her  from  consideration  with  a  shrug 
of  his  broad  shoulders.  She  had  served  his  pur 
pose;  and  he,  on  his  part,  was  ready  to  fulfil  his 
side  of  the  bargain.  With  a  comfortable  home, 
with  servants  and  horses  at  her  command,  and  noth 
ing  to  do,  what  more  could  a  woman  want  ?  He  had 
no  time  to  waste  over  abstractions. 

John  Strain's  life  was,  indeed,  busy.  As  one  may 
have  recourse  to  a  prophylactic,  so  did  he  find  as 
surance  in  work.  He  was  a  painstaking  lawyer, 
preparing  his  cases  to  the  last  possible  contingency, 
and  then  hewing  his  way  through  legal  thickets, 


14        THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

as  if  embodying  the  pioneer  spirit  of  a  new  world. 
He  was  a  student  of  literature,  a  lover  of  books, 
tracing  out  rare  editions,  elucidating  mooted  histor 
ical  points,  indexing,  cross-referencing,  rinding  re 
laxation  in  what  might  well  have  been  a  sole  and 
serious  occupation.  From  law-office  to  court-room, 
from  court-room  to  library,  was  the  circuit  at  which 
he  practised  continuously;  and  not  once  did  a 
woman's  smile  or  word  draw  him  from  it  or  change 
its  direction  an  iota. 

And  men,  though  they  did  not  know  him  in 
timately,  respected  him,  saying  that  he  was  honest, 
competent,  independent,  brave;  himself  by  his 
living  fixing  the  standard  by  which  he  judged  his 
fellows.  Local  pride  was  his;  and  his  coldness, 
his  reserve,  did  him  no  harm.  Rather  did  they  pre 
serve  him  intact  for  opportunity;  for  intimacy  in 
public  life  often  breeds  contempt.  And  so,  slowly, 
steadily,  he  worked  out  the  career  that  evident  facts 
in  the  place  of  fancy  had  demonstrated  for  him ;  un 
aware,  happily,  of  the  deductions  that  other  facts, 
mightier  if  less  patent,  were  logically,  pitilessly, 
drawing  for  his  weal  or  woe. 


CHAPTER    II 

EXIT    MARY    LANE 

ON  the  evening  after  her  heartless  rejection  by 
John  Strain,  Mary  Lane  sat  in  the  upper  story  of 
a  small  frame  house,  in  the  mountain  village  of  their 
birth,  with  her  elbows  resting  on  a  little  table.  At 
her  feet  was  a  small  cloth-case  fastened  by  a  shawl- 
strap.  Upon  the  bed,  beside  her,  lay  her  hat  and  a 
stout  jacket,  both  dark  and  of  plain  material.  She 
was  absolutely  still,  except  that  now  and  then  she 
walked  to  her  window  and  looked  up  and  down  the 
street.  It  was  about  nine  o'clock,  and  the  street 
was  almost  deserted,  except  for  an  occasional  group 
of  passers-by  —  usually  a  young  man  and  girl,  or 
two  or  three  young  men.  Sleep  hovered  early  in 
the  village;  and  at  eleven  all  was  quiet,  except  on 
the  rare  occasions  when  a  church  sociable  or  a 
stereopticon  lecture  tempted  the  inhabitants  to  late 
hours.  Mary  was  watching  the  lights  in  the  neigh 
boring  houses,  and  remained  at  her  station  for  over 
an  hour,  making  no  sound  except  now  and  then  a 
long,  quivering  sigh,  wholly  involuntary. 

15 


16        THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

At  length,  the  last  light,  that  in  the  minister's 
study,  was  suddenly  extinguished,  and  she  rose 
softly  to  her  feet,  went  to  the  door,  opened  it,  lis 
tened  intently  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  returned. 
She  put  on  her  jacket,  adjusted  her  hat  before  the 
uneven  mirror  that  hung  above  the  washstand, 
picked  up  the  cloth-case,  and  stole  on  tiptoe  down 
the  stairs,  pausing  whenever  they  creaked.  When 
she  reached  the  lower  hallway,  she  laid  a  note  on  the 
table  standing  against  the  wall,  and  then  cautiously 
opened  the  front  door.  As  she  stepped  out,  a  big, 
black  dog  came  growling  around  the  corner  of  the 
house;  but,  as  he  sniffed  at  her  dress,  he  whined 
and  wagged  his  tail.  Mary  dropped  the  cloth-case, 
and,  throwing  her  arms  around  the  dog's  neck, 
began  to  cry,  but  without  making  an  unnecessary 
sound.  The  dog  whimpered  responsively,  and  she 
quieted  him  by  caresses.  At  length  she  rose, 
stamped  her  foot  on  the  grass,  and  thus  drove  him 
back  to  his  kennel.  As  he  went  reluctantly,  she 
picked  up  the  case  again,  and  walked  rapidly  toward 
the  road. 

Keeping  in  the  shadow  of  the  houses,  Mary  passed 
along  the  village  street,  her  long,  swinging  stride 
soon  bringing  her  to  the  open  country.  At  first,  she 
had  held  her  head  bent  forward,  but  now  she  grad 
ually  raised  it,  until  she  was  erect  and  seemed  de 
fiant,  so  far  as  an  attitude  can  tell  the  mental  state; 


EXIT  MARY  LANE  17 

but  the  change  in  her  pose  may  have  been  merely  the 
result  of  her  more  rapid  pace. 

Only  once  did  she  speak  aloud,  and  that  was  when 
she  turned  to  look  back  at  the  town  she  was  leaving. 
As  she  resumed  her  walk,  she  said:  "Let  them 
think  what  they  like." 

After  two  or  three  hours,  Mary  came  to  a  bridge 
that  crossed  a  river.  There  she  left  the  road,  and 
made  her  way  through  the  bushes  to  the  river  bank, 
which  she  followed  for  a  few  rods.  Then  she 
stopped  and  searched  about  with  her  hands  until 
she  felt  a  chain  that  was  padlocked  to  a  willow 
leaning  over  the  water.  This  was  fastened  to  a 
flat-bottomed  scow,  which  she  drew  to  the  shore. 
Then,  putting  in  her  baggage,  she  took  a  key  from 
her  bosom,  unfastened  the  chain,  and  pushed  off. 
She  sat  on  the  middle  thwart,  took  up  the  oars,  and 
rowed  away,  helped  by  the  current,  for  she  was 
going  down  stream. 

About  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  Mary  turned 
toward  shore,  and,  when  she  had  landed,  deliber 
ately  took  off  her  hat  and  jacket,  though  the  night 
was  cold,  threw  them  into  the  boat,  and  then  pushed 
it  as  far  as  she  could  into  the  river,  where  it  floated 
off  down  the  rapid  current.  Then,  opening  the  case, 
she  drew  out  another  hat  and  jacket  and  laid  them 
on  the  ground  beside  her.  This  second  hat  was  a 
true  country-milliner's  "  confection,"  being  conspic- 


18        THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

uous  by  brightness  of  ribbons  and  wealth  of  red 
feathers,  and  the  jacket,  also,  was  much  more  showy 
than  that  she  had  sent  adrift,  being  adorned  with 
large,  brass  buttons.  Next,  she  took  a  pair  of 
shears  from  the  case,  let  down  her  hair,  and  clipped 
off  the  long  locks  close  to  her  head.  Then,  after 
looking  carefully  about,  and  listening,  she  lighted 
a  bit  of  candle,  and,  using  a  small  pocket  mirror, 
placed  a  slender  strip  of  black  silk  around  one  of  her 
front  teeth,  which  thus  appeared  to  have  been  lost. 
Having  put  on  the  hat  and  jacket,  and  extinguished 
the  light,  she  made  her  way  toward  a  clump  of 
woods  on  the  outskirts  of  the  large  town  near  which 
she  had  landed  and,  concealing  herself  in  the  under 
brush,  remained  hidden,  sleeping  uneasily,  now  and 
then,  until  she  heard  the  discordant  blasts  of  the 
whistles  calling  the  mill-hands  to  work.  Then, 
walking  with  a  marked  limp  in  her  gait,  she  entered 
the  town,  and  went  circuitously  through  side-streets 
to  the  railway  station.  There,  having  for  a  few 
moments  studied  the  time-table  posted  on  the  wall, 
she  bought  a  ticket  and  took  a  westward  train, 
apprehensive  still  of  discovery,  yet  hopeful  that 
through  her  precautions  she  had  avoided  recogni 
tion. 

Poor  Mary  might  have  been  less  timorous  and 
cautious  had  she  realized  how  small  and  fleeting 
would  be  the  eddies  of  her  disappearance.  The 


EXIT  MARY  LANE  19 

scow,  containing  her  hat  and  jacket,  was  picked  up, 
that  morning,  and  identified  by  its  owner,  who  said 
he  had  rented  it  for  a  week  to  a  young  woman, 
named  Mary  Lane,  who  had  paid  him  in  advance. 
Gossips  at  the  post  office  in  the  village  whispered 
that  the  girl  was  missing,  and  the  local  paper  at  the 
end  of  the  week  announced  that  she  had  "  gone  to 
parts  unknown,  after  leaving  a  note  for  her  aunt 
declaring  that  she  would  no  more  trouble  any  one." 
Surmise  soon  exhausted  itself  between  suicide  and 
scandal,  and  then  the  unsolved  mystery  was  by  gen 
eral  consent  put  out  of  consideration.  Even  Mary's 
aunt  was  not  inconsolable,  as  may  be  seen  by  her 
summary  of  the  affair,  delivered  to  a  particular 
crony  over  a  special  brew  of  tea. 

"  I  can  tell  you,  Eliza,"  said  the  worthy  woman, 
"  for  you're  close-mouthed  like  me.  The  fact  is 
that  she  was  keeping  steady  company  with  young 
Strain.  A  fine,  promising  young  fellow,  too,  same 
as  his  father  was.  You  remember  him?  Well,  I 
could  see  with  half  an  eye  that  Mary  set  a  lot  more 
store  on  him  than  he  did  on  her.  I  warned  her 
that  John  wasn't  the  kind  to  settle  down  here.  But 
she  wouldn't  hearken  to  me,  young  things  won't, 
you  know.  So,  when  John  came  to  say  good-by, 
I  wasn't  surprised.  I  knew  he  meant  to  go  to  the 
city  to  study  law,  and  that  there  would  be  an  end 
on't.  But  Mary  took  it  so  quiet  that  I  didn't  suspect 


20        THE  CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

anything,  though  I  might  have  known  she  was  all 
cut  up.  She's  got  grit  like  her  father,  and  wouldn't 
talk  to  me,  though  I  led  her  on  more'n  once.  Well, 
then,  she  left.  I  don't  believe  she  meant  to  kill 
herself ;  but  either  the  water  tempted  her,  bein'  low 
in  her  mind,  or  she  jest  run  away  —  she  always 
was  a-thinkin'  more  of  the  wonders  of  the  world 
than  the  work  in  hand.  I  s'pose  it  might  have  been 
different  if  her  mother  had  lived  —  we  never  did 
make  out  as  well  as  some.  She  favored  her  father's 
folks,  which  I  couldn't  abide.  Of  course,  I  hope 
nothin'  has  happened  to  her,  but,  now  she's  gone 
without  fault  of  mine,  I  feel  I've  done  my  full  duty 
by  her,  and  —  well  —  I  was  always  the  kind  that 
didn't  mind  being  alone.  My  ways  is  my  ways,  and 
they  ain't  nobody  else's.  You  understand,  don't 
you?" 

Mary  Lane,  unconscious  how  rapidly  oblivion 
was  settling  over  her  memory,  traveled  all  that  day 
and  night.  On  the  train  she  made  acquaintance 
with  the  mother  of  a  family  of  emigrants  —  the 
wife  of  an  Englishman  who  had  a  small  ranch  to 
which  she  was  bringing  their  three  children.  It 
was  the  second  time  this  woman  had  made  the 
journey,  and  she,  unlike  many  Englishwomen, 
proved  talkative  and  friendly.  Mary,  who  had  now 
ventured  to  remove  the  patch  from  her  front  tooth, 
was,  in  spite  of  her  closely  cropped  hair,  still  a  very 


EXIT  MARY   LANE  21 

bright  and  attractive  girl,  and  she  showed  herself 
so  helpful  with  the  rosy- faced,  restless  children  that 
their  mother  was  glad  to  give  the  benefit  of  her 
knowledge  in  return.  From  her,  then,  Mary  learned 
enough  of  the  various  stat'ions  along  the  line  of  the 
railway,  to  decide  to  leave  the  train  at  Kenyon,  a 
thriving  town  in  Kansas,  where  she  was  advised 
she  might  readily  find  work. 

Mary  Lane  felt  more  grief  at  parting  with  her 
train-acquaintances  than  she  had  felt  in  leaving  her 
aunt's  home.  They  had  occupied  her  mind,  divert 
ing  her  thoughts  from  herself.  Now  those  thoughts 
returned,  indefinite,  insinuating,  threatening,  she 
knew  not  what.  Work  was  a  necessity,  not  only 
because  her  little  store  of  money  was  nearly  ex 
hausted,  but  more,  far  more,  because  she  feared 
that,  should  she  remain  idle,  she  must  go  mad. 
This  secret  conviction  stirred  her  to  an  activity  to 
which  her  natural  buoyancy  gave  zest.  Before 
night,  she  had  found  a  place  as  waitress  in  a  small 
commercial  hotel.  In  her  precautions  against  dis 
covery  she  had  decided  to  change  her  name;  and 
so  Mary  Lane  became  "  Mary  Blake,"  and  began 
her  new  employment  the  next  day. 

The  advent  of  Mary  Blake  did  not  diminish  trie 
popularity  of  the  hotel.  She  was  bright,  pretty,  and 
reckless  enough  to  seem  jolly.  The  waitresses  liked 
her  because  she  was  so  anxious  to  do  more  than 


22        THE   CASE   OF   PAUL  BREEN 

her  share;  while  the  traveling  young  men  found 
her  ready  talk  attractive.  Indeed,  a  feverish  ac 
tivity  inspired  Mary,  making  her  forgetful  of 
both  past  and  future,  and  binding  her  close  to  the 
present- 
One  night,  during  the  first  week,  she  was  sent  to 
wait  on  the  table  for  a  late  arrival.  He  was  a 
short,  thick-set  man,  with  a  keen  blue  eye,  and  a 
mouth  that  seemed  ever  ready  to  turn  up  at  one 
corner  in  a  quizzical  smile.  He  began  to  speak  as 
soon  as  she  came  in. 

"  And  now,"  he  said,  as  if  talking  to  himself, 
"  why  can't  they  come  at  regular  hours,  instead  of 
dropping  in  when  all  the  dishes  are  washed  and 
we're  just  settling  down  to  a  bit  of  embroidery. 
Just  like  these  men-folk  —  expecting  hot  meals  at 
all  hours!" 

"  It's  nothing,  sir,  I'm  sure,"  said  Mary,  laugh 
ing  at  his  odd  way.  "  You've  called  for  noth 
ing  but  poached  eggs  and  toast,  and  a  cup  of 
coffee." 

The  man  looked  sharply  at  her.     Then  his  tone 
changed,  as  he  said  seriously,  "  You're  new  here?  " 
Mary  nodded  as  she  arranged  the  table. 
"  I  didn't  notice  at  first,"  he  continued.     "  I've 
often  been  coming  through  here  lately,  and  thought 
I  knew  you  all.     You  mustn't  mind  my  blarney; 
sure  I've  kissed  the  stone." 


EXIT  MARY  LANE  23 

"Then  you've  seen  Blarney  Castle?"  Mary 
asked.  "  I'd  like  to  travel.  I've  never  been  any 
where." 

"  Now,  that's  strange,"  the  man  reflected,  while 
his  mouth  twisted  up  into  its  half-smile,  "  I've  al 
ways  been  everywhere.  It's  the  plain  truth.  I  must 
have  been  born  under  a  shooting-star.  My  birth 
place  is  not  twenty  miles  from  Blarney  Castle,  and 
I  ran  away  from  home  three  times  before  I  was 
twelve  —  it's  in  the  blood.  Once  I  went  on  a  deep- 
sea  voyage,  once  to  London,  once  across  the  Chan 
nel.  And  I've  been  running  away  ever  since.  Well, 
it's  the  old  proverb  that's  come  true  with  me,  for 
devil  a  bit  of  moss  have  I  gathered." 

"  You  don't  seem  discouraged,"  Mary  said  with 
an  answering  smile  to  the  frank  face  opposite. 

"  Never  a  mite.  My  mother  worried  over  me  till 
she  found  out  'twas  no  use,  and  that  I  was  never 
happy  except  when  in  trouble;  so  she  gave  me  her 
blessing  and  bade  me  go.  '  Sure  this  blessed  land 
is  too  small  and  quiet  for  the  likes  of  you,'  she  said. 
And  so  I  shipped  for  South  America,  was  wrecked, 
lived  on  a  desert  island  for  a  week,  —  and  precious 
little  dessert  too,  to  say  nothing  of  the  lack  of  a  solid 
meal,  —  and  then  was  rescued  and  carried  to  the 
West  Indies.  Then  to  New  Orleans,  St.  Louis,  New 
York,  and  so  out  west.  Since  that  time  I  find  my 
self  half-Irishman,  half-westerner." 


24        THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

"Can  I  get  you  anything  more?"  Mary  asked, 
feeling  that  she  ought  to  get  back  to  the  kitchen. 

"  You'd  rather  see  me  eat  than  hear  me  talk,"  he 
retorted ;  "  now,  that  won't  do ;  I  seldom  find  a 
good  listener  like  you.  So  you  are  hungry  for 
travel,  are  you?  That  sort  of  draws  us  together, 
we're  so  different !  I've  seen  them  all  —  Peru, 
China,  Turkey  —  while  you,  I  wager,  never  got 
beyond  the  pages  of  your  geography  at  school. 
Isn't  that  so?" 

"  Yes,  sir ;  I've  always  been  curious  about  foreign 
countries,  and  I've  been  nowhere.  And  now,  I 
should  like  to  go  far,  far  away,  to  the  ends  of  the 

earth." 

I 

"  I  know  that  feeling ;  it  fairly  tingles  your 
toes,  doesn't  it?  But  you're  from  the  East,  aren't 
you?" 

'''  Yes,"  Mary  answered  hurriedly,  provoked  that 
she  should  have  inadvertently  expressed  her  secret 
longing.  "  But  there  must  be  something  else  you'd 
like.  You've  taken  a  light  supper  for  a  hungry 
man.  Let  me  get  you  another  cup  of  coffee." 

"I'll  not  say  no  to  that;  the  coffee  is  good 
here." 

When  Mary  went  to  the  kitchen,  she  described 
the  guest  and  made  inquiries  about  him.  "  Oh, 
that's  Neil  Breen,"  cried  one  of  the  waitresses ;  "  no 
body's  enemy  if  not  his  own." 


EXIT  MARY   LANE  25 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  He  doesn't  look  like  a 
drinking  man." 

"  Not  now,"  explained  the  girl ;  "  though  they 
do  say  there  was  a  time  when  he  crooked  his  elbow 
more  than  was  good  for  him,  or  any  one  else  that 
got  in  his  way.  But  there's  no  stay  to  him.  He's 
smart  enough,  and  might  amount  to  something  if 
he  could  only  settle  down  long  enough  to  leave  a 
foot-print.  He's  never  quiet,  though,  and  spends 
his  money  faster  than  he  makes  it.  Fine-looking 
man,  isn't  he?  " 

"  He  looks  good-natured,"  Mary  answered  as 
she  turned  toward  the  dining-room  door. 

"  Oh,  he's  good-natured  enough  when  he  isn't 
crossed,"  retorted  the  other. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Breen,  as  Mary  put  down  the 
cup.  "  And  what  did  they  tell  you  of  me?  Noth 
ing  bad,  I  hope  ?  " 

"  What  would  you  give  to  know  ?  " 

"  I  do  know,  as  if  I  had  listened  at  the  key-hole, 
and  it's  all  true,  too,  worse  luck.  I'm  a  thriftless, 
wandering  Irish  lad,  with  a  smiling  mug  and  an 
empty  pocket.  But  there's  many  a  heavier  purse 
carried  by  a  sadder  face."  Then  he  became  serious. 
"  You  must  not  mind  what  they  tell  you.  The  day 
may  come  when  Neil  Breen  will  have  the  laugh  on 
his  side.  It  isn't  always  the  stick  in  the  mud  that 
makes  the  gold-headed  cane.  Where  is  your  table  ?  " 


26        THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

"  My  table  is  the  one  in  the  corner,"  Mary  an 
swered. 

"  Then  that's  the  place  for  me  to-morrow  morn 
ing.  I'm  an  old  traveler  and  I  know  when  I'm  well 
off.  Good-night,  my  girl,  good-night." 

Neil  came  down  early  to  breakfast,  and  talked 
with  Mary  in  the  same  voluble  style;  though  now 
his  questions  evinced  a  strong  desire  for  a  better 
acquaintance.  During  the  two  days  of  his  stay  at 
the  hotel  he  sought  her  out  in  every  possible  way; 
and,  indeed,  the  other  girls  were  playfully  jealous 
of  his  interest  in  the  newcomer.  When  he  left,  he 
shook  her  warmly  by  the  hand,  telling  her  that  he 
hoped  to  see  her  bright  eyes  soon  again,  though, 
sure,  he'd  carry  the  memory  of  them  away  with 
him. 

Within  the  week  Neil  returned  and  this  time  his 
attentions  were  plainly  evident.  Mary  was  at  once 
alarmed  and  tempted.  That  indefinite  fear  from 
which  she  had  striven  to  flee  warned  her  that  she 
should  not ;  yet  an  irrepressible,  innate  hopefulness, 
that  will-o'-the-wisp  which  thus  far  had  been  the 
only  guide  of  her  life,  kept  whispering  back  that  she 
would.  Mary  was  ignorant,  young  and  ignorant, 
as  yet  skeptical  of  the  ruthlessness  of  nature,  as  yet 
steadfast  to  the  instinct  that  the  way  to  avoid  an 
unpleasant  situation  is  to  ignore  it.  "Why  not?" 
she  asked  herself  defiantly;  "there  is  no  reason, 


EXIT  MARY   LANE  27 

none,  none !  "  And,  the  next  time  she  saw  Breen, 
she  smiled  more  charmingly  upon  him. 

The  man  was  fascinated,  hot  with  love ;  and  took 
the  first  opportunity,  when  they  were  alone,  to 
make  a  formal  proposal.  There  was  something  in 
his  halting  words,  so  vibrant  with  truth  and  sincer 
ity,  that  quivered  the  girl's  heart;  and  she  bowed 
her  head,  the  tears  stealing  through  her  white 
fingers. 

"  Don't,  my  dear,"  said  Neil  Breen.  "  You 
mustn't  worry  your  little  soul  over  something  or 
other  that's  nothing  to  me  and  nothing  to  you.  I'm 
asking  for  your  hand  with  your  heart,  not  your 
history  inside  of  it.  Sure,  a  pretty  girl  like  you 
must  have  had  her  lovers ;  and,  as  for  me,  a  sailor's 
no  sailor,  unless  he's  left  a  sweetheart  in  every  port 
'round  the  world.  But  now  I'm  in  earnest  for  the 
first  time ;  so  I  ask  no  more  than  '  Will  you  love 
me  true,  through  black  and  blue,  with  honor  due, 
my  darling  Sue  ?  ' 

Mary's  gay  humor  returned;  her  reckless  spirit 
shone  mischievously  from  her  eyes,  and  gave  an 
inspiring  toss  to  her  head. 

"  We'll  leave  the  blackness  all  behind  us,"  she 
cried,  "  and  only  our  skies  shall  be  blue.  You  are 
good  to  me,  so  good  to  me,  I'll  never  forget  it! 
Yes,  I  will  go  with  you,  willingly,  gladly;  and  the 
further  you  wander,  the  better  I'll  like  it.  At  least 


28        THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

I'll  be  a  faithful  wife  to  you,  Neil,  ah,  so  faithful 
and  true,  and  who  knows  but  the  luck  will  change, 
and  you  will  find  fortune,  and  I  shall  find  happi 
ness  ?  " 

The  hotel  people  were  delighted  with  this  rapid 
wooing,  and  did  all  in  their  power  to  make  the 
wedding  jolly.  And  so,  without  further  ado,  these 
two  waifs,  drifted  together  from  out  of  the  un 
known  through  the  mighty  force  of  unseen  currents, 
embarked  confidently,  buoyantly  in  a  slighter  craft 
than  those  that  they  now  abandoned.  But  safety  is 
not  entirely  a  matter  of  precautions ;  and  sometimes 
the  sea  continues  so  serene  that  it  seems  that  the 
gales  have  forgotten  how  to  beat  and  the  storms 
how  to  rage. 


CHAPTER    III 

THE   BREEN    FAMILY 

ONE  evening,  soon  after  his  marriage,  Neil  Breen 
came  home  to  the  small  hotel  in  a  southwestern 
town,  where  he  had  deposited  his  wife  for  safe  keep 
ing,  in  a  state  of  exultant  excitement,  which  he 
vainly  strove  to  suppress.  "  I  have  found  out 
something  about  you,  Mary,"  he  began  gravely. 

Mary's  face  turned  white,  and  she  sat  silent;  but 
he  went  on  unheeding.  "  You're  a  mascot,"  he  ex 
claimed;  "a  regular  A  i,  first  chop,  clipper-built 
mascot,  my  dear,  that's  what  you  are.  There  never 
was  a  more  reckless  marriage  than  ours  —  I  could 
hardly  see  a  week's  board  ahead  out  of  this  hap 
hazard,  go-between,  cover-the-ground  business  of 
mine,  with  a  slip-up  at  one  end  and  a  throw-down 
at  the  other,  as  a  general  rule ;  but  now  we're  fixed, 
settled,  landed  on  the  sunny  side,  and  back  from  the 
road,  for  life.  You're  a  mascot,  I  say." 

"  Do  you  mean,  Neil,  that  you  have  been  success 
ful  in  some  of  your  prospecting?  Oh,  that's  too 
good  to  be  true." 

29 


30        THE   CASE  OF  PAUL   BREEN 

"  More  than  that,  colleen ;  and  the  truer  it  is  the 
better  it  is.  I've  clinched  and  copper-fastened  the 
deal  of  my  life,  and  to-morrow  it's  ho!  for  Glori- 
osa  and  the  Gloriosa  mine." 

"  But  you  said  that  was  no  good,"  Mary  ob 
jected. 

'  That  was  last  week.  This  week,  'tis  a  good 
thing,  and  we're  pushing  it  along  for  all  we're 
worth,  and  next  week,"  —  he  sank  his  voice  to  a 
whisper  —  "  if  next  week  the  Gloriosa  isn't  a  bo 
nanza,  then  I'm  a  Dutchman,  and  I  can't  say  more 
than  that." 

"  But  you  don't  own  the  mine,  dear?  " 

"  Not  all  of  it ;  if  I  did  you'd  be  eating  off  gold 
plate  in  a  month.  But  I've  some  few  shares,  and 
I'm  promised  the  place  of  manager  at  a  salary  that 
will  keep  the  wolf  so  far  from  the  door  you'll  never 
hear  his  howls,  my  dear." 

"  It  pleases  me  so,"  murmured  Mary.  "  I  seem 
to  see  that  all  I  dared  to  hope  is  coming  true.  Do 
you  remember  — 

"  I  remember  you  hoped  you'd  change  my  luck," 
he  interrupted,  "  and  it's  all  come  true  like  gos 
pel.  Look  here  now."  He  drew  from  his  inside 
vest-pocket  a  roll  of  bills,  and  separated  two  crisp 
ones  from  the  rest.  "  There,"  he  continued,  hand 
ing  them  over,  "  for  your  trousoo,  my  darlint. 
I'm  sorry  it  comes  after  the  wedding  instead  of 


THE   BREEN   FAMILY  31 

before  it,  but  it's  better  late  than  never,  so  it 
is." 

Mary  looked  at  the  bills  in  amazement.  There 
was  a  large  "  C  "  in  the  corner  of  each  of  them. 
"  Two  one-hundred  dollar  bills !  "  she  exclaimed ; 
"  why,  I  never  saw  so  much  money  before !  Oh,  I 
can't  take  them." 

"  Whisht,"  said  Neil,  drawing  out  the  roll  again, 
"  if  I  didn't  clean  forget  there's  luck  in  odd  num 
bers.  Here's  another  one  to  bring  the  two  up  to 
the  proper  mark." 

He  rattled  on,  telling  all  the  particulars  of  his 
successful  deal,  finding  supreme  satisfaction  in  his 
sanguine  words,  and  never  noting  that  his  wife 
gave  little  heed.  She  was  persuading  herself  that 
this  surprising  change  in  their  fortunes  was  an  omen 
of  still  more  surprising  and  enduring  felicity;  she 
was  realizing,  dimly,  questioningly,  yet  rapturously, 
that  her  husband's  simple  faith  and  affection  would 
prove  an  ample  shield  against  the  fears  that  had 
beset  her.  "  Oh,  you  dear,"  she  cried  suddenly, 
throwing  her  arms  around  his  neck,  in  a  burst  of 
heartfelt  contrition,  "  I  do  love  you,  I  do!  " 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Breen,  the  next  day,  arrived  at  a 
new  but  bustling  little  town,  evidently  of  recent 
prosperity.  Even  from  the  platform  it  was  possible 
to  see  the  activity  that  promised  a  future.  Skeleton 
buildings  in  process  of  construction  were  visible  on 


32        THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

all  sides.  There  were  one  or  two  tall  chimneys  that 
yet  retained  the  bright  red  of  freshly-laid  bricks. 
The  streets  seemed  too  small  for  the  traffic.  New 
houses  and  stores  stood  upon  dirt-roads,  with  side 
walks  of  aged  planks.  The  sign  on  the  station  — 
the  station  itself  —  was  new.  And  the  name  "  Glo- 
riosa "  shone  resplendent  in  new  gold-leaf,  on  a 
brand  new  sign-board. 

Neil  called  a  ramshackle  vehicle,  and  they  drove 
to  a  new  hotel  in  a  new  street.  When  he  signed 
his  name  on  the  register,  the  young  clerk  hastened 
to  put  on  a  coat,  and  came  forward  smiling  a  wel 
come. 

"  We've  got  your  rooms  ready  on  the  first  floor, 
Mr.  Breen,"  he  said.  "  You'll  have  to  make  allow 
ances,  of  course.  We  opened  only  a  week  ago,  and 
the  wheels  don't  go  round  quite  smoothly  yet. 
This  way,  please,  if  you  and  your  lady  will  follow 
me." 

Neil  Breen  soon  proved  himself  invaluable  to  the 
mine-owners.  Not  only  did  he  acquaint  himself 
with  the  nature  of  the  mine,  and  its  product,  but 
also  studied  its  business  management  in  every  de 
tail,  and,  what  was  more  vital,  in  every  wholesale 
view  as  well.  Even  if  he  could  have  been  replaced 
in  these  capacities,  he  yet  had  a  more  exceptional 
claim  upon  his  business  associates.  Every  business 
depends  finally  upon  the  disposition  of  the  human 


THE   BREEN   FAMILY  33 

souls  engaged  in  it.  If  the  workers  be  sullen,  hos 
tile,  distrustful,  dishonest,  they  can,  and  usually  do, 
wreck  the  whole  enterprise.  No  dead  rules  can  bind 
the  human  soul;  and,  merely  as  an  economic  asset, 
the  good  will  of  the  worker  is  a  main  factor  in 
every  success.  Breen  was,  like  all  good  Irishmen, 
intensely  human.  He  knew  the  men  by  names,  not 
by  number.  He  knew  when  to  drive,  when  to  lead, 
when  to  resist,  arid  when  to  yield.  Capable  himself, 
he  knew  and  recognized  capability  in  others.  No 
miner,  engineer  or  superintendent  worked  under 
Breen ;  all  worked  with  him,  sharing  a  pride  in  the 
Gloriosa  mine  and  a  satisfaction  in  its  advancing 
fortunes. 

Mary  was  soon  triumphantly  established  in  a  new 
home  of  her  own,  with  a  social  position  almost 
dizzy  in  its  unaccustomed  flatteries  and  deferences. 
As  the  days  rolled  by,  each  one  leaving  her  wife- 
hood  the  more  honored,  the  more  secure,  she  for 
got  the  fears  that  had  pictured  her  marriage  as  the 
taking  of  a  desperate  chance.  Ever  a  child  of  the 
present,  undisciplined,  buoyant  of  spirit,  vigorous 
of  health,  governed  by  impulses,  kindly,  generous, 
yet  incapable  of  the  self-sacrifice  of  principle,  she 
was  happy  in  the  brief  sunshine  of  prosperity,  un 
mindful  of  the  darkness  that  had  preceded  and 
might  succeed  it. 

And  yet,  when  she  became  the  mother  of  a  son, 


34        THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

she  sobbed  away  her  heart  on  Neil's  breast  with 
such  abjectness  that  he  marveled  at  her  sensibility. 
"  'Tis  holy  you  are  to  me  now,"  he  vowed,  soothing 
her  emotions  with  such  supreme  pride  and  delight 
that  soon  her  eyes  again  were  shining  joyously 
through  their  tears. 

Maternity  developed  Mary.  The  child  was  puny 
at  birth,  and  for  long  did  not  thrive.  He  was  an 
eerie  little  being,  who  looked  shrewdly  about  him 
as  if  weighing  the  gravity  of  existence,  and  finding 
it  upon  the  whole  overpowering.  Only  the  mother's 
devotion,  tireless,  sleepless,  fiercely  jealous  of  its 
natural  rights,  battling  against  death  with  primeval 
instincts,  kept  the  flickering  breath  within  the  little 
one.  Yet,  when  the  fight  seemed  most  hopeless,  she 
showed  little  emotion,  her  faithfulness  springing 
less  from  affection  than  from  an  almost  morbid 
anxiety  to  do  full  duty  by  her  child. 

The  long  battle  ended  in  a  hard-won  victory. 
The  boy  lived  and  was  duly  christened  Paul.  As 
often  happens,  with  the  illness  he  acquired  a  wiry 
strength  one  would  hardly  expect  in  so  frail  a  body. 
His  mind,  too,  proved  clever  and  keen.  Though 
unusually  silent  for  a  little  chap,  he  could  talk  when 
he  chose,  using  an  amazing  vocabulary  with  a  humor 
that  delighted  Neil.  Though  obedient  and  willing, 
a.  strange  air  of  aloofness  clung  to  Paul,  a  sense 
of  separateness,  of  loss,  evanescent,  trivial;  yet  at 


THE   BREEN    FAMILY  35 

times  marking  him  as  if  he  were  an  orphan  in  his 
own  home.  Neil  laughed  at  the  lad's  odd  ways  and 
called  him  a  queer  little  tyke;  but  Mary  pondered 
them  over  within  her  heart. 

Maternity,  in  thus  developing  Mary,  acquainted 
her  with  sorrow  far  different  from  the  passionate 
grief  and  ignorant  fears  of  earlier  days.  The 
blooming  of  the  true  womanly  nature  within  her 
made  her  less  selfish,  and  more  remorseful.  She 
dreaded  not  for  herself,  but  for  her  son  —  that  in 
nocent,  unknowing  flesh  of  her  flesh,  blameless,  yet 
involved,  through  her  fault,  in  an  intricacy  of  pos 
sibilities,  vague,  yet  all  alike  evil.  A  morbid  anx 
iety  to  do  one's  duty  in  a  single  respect  is  apt  to 
widen  in  time  and  take  in  subjects  hitherto  treated 
with  indifference.  Mary  began  to  be  troubled  over 
her  treatment  of  Neil.  Ought  she  not  to  confess 
to  him  that  Paul  was  not  his  son,  and  would  he  not, 
good-hearted  and  loyal  that  he  was,  understand  that 
she  had  fled  headlong  and  heedless  to  the  one  refuge 
open  to  her,  as  free  from  deliberate  intention  as  a 
deer  in  its  wild  flight  from  the  hunters? 

Then,  in  her  doubt  and  uncertainty,  there  came 
a  happening  that  drove  her  back  into  silence.  She 
had  acquired,  among  other  accomplishments,  that  of 
water-color  painting,  and  joined  a  little  sketching 
class  of  ladies  and  gentlemen.  One  of  the  members 
of  this  class  was  so  foolish  as  to  mistake  her  eager 


36        THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

interest  in  his  work  for  an  interest  in  himself.  Be 
ing  at  the  callow  age  when  married  women  seem 
especially  attractive,  because  frank  and  kind,  he 
thought  himself  in  love,  and  began  paying  atten 
tions  that  meant  nothing  to  her  and  much  to  him. 
This  caused  some  good-natured  joking  among  the 
other  women,  echoes  of  which  came  to  Neil's 
ears. 

Neil  went  straight  to  his  wife  and  asked  her  what 
it  meant.  She,  for  the  first  time,  saw  him  angry, 
and  angry  in  a  way  that  petrified  her.  He  plainly 
told  her  that  he  was  not  the  sort  of  man  who  would 
permit  the  slightest  scandal  to  attach  to  her 


name. 

it     TJ 


I'm  a  good  husband  to  you,  Mary,"  he  said, 
"  and  I  trust  you  as  I'd  trust  a  saint  In  heaven.  But 
unless  you  tell  me,  now  and  here,  that  all  this  story 
is  a  damned  lie,  I'll  go  out  and  kill  that  little  snipe, 
and  you'll  never  see  Neil  Breen  in  this  world  or  the 
next.  For  if  you  weren't  true  to  me,  and  went  to 
heaven,  I'd  choose  hell !  " 

Though  her  first  words  seemed  to  have  satisfied 
him,  Neil  was  moody  and  sullen,  and  that  night, 
for  the  first  time  since  their  marriage,  he  came  home 
the  worse  for  liquor.  Such  a  manifestation  of  un 
suspected  traits  was  a  supreme  shock  to  Mary. 
Where  then  was  the  careless,  good-natured,  irre 
sponsible  wanderer,  who  had  rushed  into  a  happy- 


THE   BREEN   FAMILY  37 

go-lucky  marriage  with  such  utter  confidence  ?  Her 
newly-formed  habits  of  reflection  warned  her  that, 
like  herself,  Neil  had  changed  with  the  years. 

Authority  had  developed  Neil  Breen,  if  the  in 
tensifying  of  the  will,  and  the  magnifying  of  the 
personal  concept,  can  properly  be  termed  develop 
ment.  His  mental  dignity  was  enlarged,  but  not 
strengthened,  by  the  deference  and  obedience  ac 
corded  him  at  the  works.  His  anxiety  no  longer 
was  to  gloze  over  his  faults  with  a  ready  appeal  to 
human  weaknesses;  on  the  contrary,  he  had  set  up 
in  his  own  estimation  a  graven  image  of  himself 
before  which  his  little  world  might  well  fall  down 
and  worship.  There  is  madness  in  long  continued 
power,  unless  it  be  qualified  with  a  heavy  sense  of 
responsibility  and  duty.  As  the  waitress  had  said 
years  before,  Neil  was  good-natured  enough  when 
not  crossed;  but,  now,  a  crossing  seemed  almost 
sacrilege  to  his  alert  and  sensitive  vanity.  Thus  he 
was  more  dictatorial,  quick-tempered  and  passion 
ate,  prone  to  think  offence,  and,  when  the  slight 
was  not  easily  adjusted  to  his  self-esteem,  some 
times  brooding  over  it  in  the  deadly  conviviality  of 
secret  and  solitary  drink. 

When  Paul  was  ten  years  old,  Edith,  the  second 
child,  was  born,  to  Neil's  supreme  delight.  "  You've 
got  a  real,  roly-poly,  Irish  lass,  this  time,  Mary,  for 
a  fact,"  he  cried.  "  Why,  she's  the  very  image  of 


38        THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

me.  Somehow,  I  feel  more  drawn  to  her,  don't  you 
know?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Mary  in  a  low  tone,  "  I  wish  Paul 
was  more  like  her." 

"  Variety's  the  spice  of  babies,"  continued  Neil 
gaily,  "  and  I  hate  to  see  a  family  all  -a-row  like 
peas  in  a  pod.  Paul's  a  riddle  —  perhaps  he'll  prove 
a  genius,  and  too  much  for  the  likes  of  us;  but  this 
little  lass  is  just  a  human  package,  filled  with  all  the 
comforts  of  home.  Take  them  together,  they're  a 
pair  that's  hard  to  beat." 

Mary  did  not  share  her  husband's  complacency 
over  the  contrast  between  the  children.  She  mar 
veled  at  his  blindness,  and,  as  the  years  made  the 
dissimilarity  of  feature  and  character  the  more 
marked  and  distinct,  she  dreaded  each  day  as  the 
one  on  which  the  shameful  truth  must  flash  over 
him.  Under  the  wearing  suspense,  her  health  be 
gan  to  fail  rapidly;  and  then,  as  she  grew  weaker 
and  weaker,  to  a  purely  physical  fear  was  added  the 
spiritual  anguish  of  divine  wrath,  the  more  inexo 
rable  the  nearer  it  seemed.  What  should  she  do, 
afraid  of  her  husband,  afraid  of  God?  Almost  in 
evitably,  with  the  instinct  of  refuge,  like  the  filings 
to  the  magnet,  Mary  turned  to  the  one  great  source 
of  consolation  and  hope  for  suffering  womankind, 
throughout  the  ages  —  the  church. 

One  day,  the  Rev.  Samuel  Sanderson  received  an 


THE   BREEN   FAMILY  39 

unsigned  note,  in  a  tremulous,  feminine  hand,  sta 
ting  that  one  of  his  congregation  was  anxious  to 
have  him  express  his  views  on  the  subject  of  the 
confessional.  The  minister  was  a  worthy  and  sin 
cere  man,  fervid  of  purpose,  but  somewhat  emo 
tional  and  indiscreet.  Long  habit  had  made  him 
profuse  in  generalities,  and  here  was  the  very  string 
upon  which  to  hang  some  of  the  most  precious  of 
them.  Without  ado,  he  drew  a  pad  of  paper  to  him 
and  began  to  write.  As  his  pen  moved,  it  quick 
ened.  He  became  interested,  absorbed,  carried  away 
by  his  theme,  and  when  at  length  he  was  summoned 
to  his  belated  and  lonely  supper,  he  laid  aside  his 
work  with  the  gratified  words :  "  That  is  the  best 
sermon  I  ever  wrote." 

Sunday,  this  conviction  of  power  was  confirmed. 
There  was  no  lolling  in  the  pews,  no  shiftings  of 
feet  upon  the  floor.  The  congregation  was  fixed 
by  his  first  word,  and  he,  in  turn,  was  inspired  by 
the  rapt  attention  he  secured.  As  his  soul  expanded 
within  him,  he  abandoned  his  text,  and  spoke  im 
promptu  —  the  thoughts,  images  and  tropes,  which 
had  come  so  slowly  in  his  study,  now  tumbling  in 
exhaustibly  from  his  teeming  intellect.  He  burned 
with  love  and  sympathy  for  those  who  bore  within 
them  the  awful  burden  of  unconfessed  guilt.  He 
depicted  the  Great  White  Throne  as  the  seat  of 
mercy  and  love;  and  the  clergy  as  emissaries  bear- 


40        THE   CASE  OF  PAUL   BREEN 

ing  tidings  of  exceeding  joy  whereby  scarlet  should 
become  snow-white. 

To  Mary,  gazing  up  at  the  minister,  forgetful  of 
all  else  but  those  healing  words,  he  seemed  as  one 
bringing  water  to  a  poor,  parched  traveler  in  a 
desert.  Here  at  last  was  the  physician  that  could 
minister  to  a  mind  diseased.  He  spoke  with  such 
assurance,  with  such  rapturous  certainty  of  a  cure 
that  could  not  fail. 

"Confession  pays  the  penalty,"  he  reiterated; 
"  confession  makes  the  soul  again  sound  and  whole. 
Why  then  hesitate;  why  then  delay?  Your  pastor 
is  only  God's  representative;  God  knows  already. 
By  the  lips  of  his  representative  on  earth,  your 
Father  in  heaven  shall  give  you  the  blessed  peace 
of  forgiveness,  the  joy  that  is  greater  than  mere 
oblivion  could  bring;  for  the  reconcilement  with 
God  is  sweeter  than  mere  forgetfulness." 

Little  wonder  that  when  the  sermon  ended  with 
the  open-armed  entreaty  "  Come,"  Mary  was  ready, 
nay  eager,  to  obey. 

The  Rev.  Samuel  Sanderson  rested  from  his 
labors,  in  the  pastor's  study.  He  viewed  his  work 
through  the  glasses  of  satisfaction  and  found  that 
it  was  good.  A  fitting  ending,  truly,  climactic,  even 
dramatic,  to  the  years  of  continuous  toil  in  the  vine 
yard.  Now,  with  a  light  heart,  and  a  sense  of  the 
worthiness  of  hire,  he  could  avail  himself  of  the 


THE   BREEN   FAMILY  41 

vacation  recently  granted,  and  journey  to  the  dis 
tant  town  of  Fremontia,  in  the  northwest,  where 
he  was  to  meet  his  little  daughter,  Constance,  and 
bring  her  back  to  the  home  from  which  she  had 
been  separated  since  her  mother's  death. 

As  the  good  man  thus  rubbed  his  hands  over  the 
pleasing  prospects  both  behind  and  before  him,  there 
came  a  slight  rap,  followed  by  the  instant  opening 
and  shutting  of  the  door.  Mrs.  Neil  Breen,  the 
wife  of  the  richest  member  of  his  congregation,  and 
herself  the  most  conspicuous  and  faithful  of  the 
Woman's  Auxiliary  band  of  the  church,  passed 
through  like  a  shadow,  and,  falling  prone  at  his  feet, 
sobbed  out  the  secret  of  her  life,  most  intimate,  most 
shameful. 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Sanderson  listened  in  silence.  He 
was  frightened  beyond  expression  of  word  or  act. 
Like  many  clergymen,  he  was  so  used  to  dealing 
with  abstractions  that  it  had  never  occurred  to  him 
that  these  were  but  algebraic  symbols  that  had  no 
meaning  except  when  translated  into  terms  of  flesh 
and  blood,  of  soul  and  body,  of  virtue  and  vice. 
Now,  in  his  fatuity,  he  had  set  in  motion  the  secret 
mechanism  controlling  human  lives,  and  who  could 
foretell  what  hideous  wreck  and  tragedy  might  not 
ensue. 

More  than  tfyis,  being  a  good,  true  man,  he  was 
ashamed  of  the  blatant,  unreasoning  enthusiasm, 


42        THE   CASE   OF  PAUL  BREEN 

which  had  always  been  the  thorn  in  the  flesh  of  his 
conscience,  and  the  snare  to  his  feet  on  the  path  of 
righteousness.  Again  and  again,  had  he  rushed  in 
where  angels  fear  to  tread,  only  to  slink  out  in 
humiliation  and  contrition.  Even  while  Mary  was 
still  speaking,  finding  a  poor  comfort  perhaps  in  de 
tail,  he  had  breathed  a  vow  to  God  that  never  again 
would  he  through  lack  of  discernment  cause  one  of 
these  little  ones  to  grieve;  and  when  at  length  she 
ceased,  lying  abased  before  him,  her  arms  extended 
in  the  form  of  a  cross,  he  raised  her  tenderly,  his 
soul  absorbed  with  the  one  purpose  of  preventing 
further  evil. 

He  told  her  that  she  had  done  her  full  duty  to 
herself  in  thus  confessing  her  sins,  and  that  now 
her  concern  must  be  her  duty  to  those  with  whom 
she  was  so  intimately  connected.  He  warned  her 
that  she  was  the  guardian  of  Neil's  rash  and  violent 
nature,  and  the  arbiter  of  the  future  weal  and  woe 
of  the  children,  Paul  and  Edith.  "  There  is  a  self 
ishness  in  confession  against  which  you  must  be 
especially  on  guard,"  he  continued.  "  Where  wrong 
can  be  righted,  then  it  may  be  one's  duty  to  speak 
openly,  in  defiance  of  consequences.  But  when  only 
disgrace,  suffering  and  crime  can  be  the  fruits  of 
exposure,  then  the  secret  must  be  kept  hidden,  since 
others  have  acquired  a  right  in  its  hiding.  Take 
up  again  your  burden,  my  poor  sister,  and  bear  it 


THE   BREEN   FAMILY  43 

onward  without  repining;  for  such  is  the  penalty 
of  your  wrong-doing,  imposed  not  in  anger  but  in 
loving-kindness.  The  road  is  hard,  the  way  is  steep, 
but  the  light  of  God's  love  shines  upon  it;  and  she 
who  is  doing  the  best  for  others,  is  doing  the  best 
for  herself." 

So  Mary  went  back  to  her  home,  determined  to 
accept  her  lot.  She  was  dulled  by  the  futility  of 
human  efforts;  she  was  dazed  by  the  power  of 
human  weaknesses.  What  was  the  use  of  strug 
gling?  With  something  of  the  forced  abnegation 
of  the  condemned,  she  put  from  her  alike  her  sor 
rows  and  her  fears.  As  her  health  steadily  grew 
more  delicate  and  she  became  more  and  more  feeble, 
she  seldom  left  her  home,  limiting  her  interests  to 
its  material  needs. 

Neil  soon  noticed  a  reserve  in  her  manner  toward 
him,  which  he  bitterly  resented.  With  characteristic 
lack  of  discrimination,  he  found  his  home-circle  al 
most  repellent  to  him,  exaggerating  Paul's  pecu 
liarities,  and  belittling  Edith's  careless  affection. 
His  rugged  health  made  him  impatient  of  invalid- 
ism;  and  he  spoke  contemptuously  of  his  wife's 
"  fine  airs  and  whimsies."  Though  his  wealth  had 
increased  amazingly  of  late  through  speculation, 
and  he  was  never  happier  than  when  he  was  lavish 
with  it,  he  felt  that  his  importance  was  unappre 
ciated  by  his  family;  and  he  began  more  and  more 


44        THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

to  welcome  any  excuse  that  took  him  from  them. 
Consequently,  he  was  glad  when  business  called  him 
to  the  distant  city  of  Fremontia;  though  he  was 
vaguely  worried  over  his  wife's  health  and  momen 
tarily  troubled  at  the  thought  of  leaving  her  for  so 
long  a  period. 


CHAPTER    IV 

THE    SEAL    BROKEN 

NEIL  BREEN  was  low  of  spirit  on  arriving  at 
Fremontia.  The  old  light-heartedness,  that  once 
had  enabled  him  to  find  in  the  drama  of  life  around 
him  a  book  of  perennial  interest,  was  gone.  In  its 
stead,  black  care  had  journeyed  with  him.  Vaguely 
discontented  with  Mary  and  disturbed  at  her  failing 
strength,  vaguely  displeased  with  Paul,  even  the 
thought  of  Edith  failed  to  gratify  him,  since  it  re 
called  so  many  of  his  own  traits,  diminished,  play 
ful,  yet  vital  in  her,  that  he  would,  but  could  not, 
change.  In  a  dumb  sort  of  way  he  felt  that  the 
acquisition  of  wealth  was  after  all  but  a  part  of  a 
greater,  more  mysterious  business,  in  which  he  who 
had  bartered  his  contentment  for  it  got  far  the  worse 
of  the  bargain. 

The  old  restlessness,  however,  that  innate  craving 
to  be  with  rather  than  apart  from  men,  though  it 
had  lain  dormant,  was  still  a  moving  force  with 
Breen.  The  gloomy,  cheerless  office  of  the  hotel 
was  repugnant  to  him;  his  room,  with  its  crude 

45 


46        THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

comforts  and  solemn,  foreboding  silences,  could 
only  be  attractive  to  exhaustion;  and  so,  having 
digested  the  contents  of  a  directory  and  a  time-table 
as  a  fitting  dessert  for  a  dinner  not  at  all  to  his  taste, 
he  wandered  aimlessly  through  the  streets,  as  once 
he  had  wandered  aimlessly  over  the  world,  though 
then  he  had  been  alone  and  gay  and  now  Black 
Care  stuck  close  to  his  side. 

The  night  was  starless  and  rainy,  with  a  bitter 
tang  to  the  air.  The  houses,  set  back  from  the 
street,  seemed  wrapped  in  repellent  seclusion.  But 
few  persons  were  abroad,  and  they  all  hurried  in  the 
same  direction.  Breen  followed  listlessly  until  he 
came  to  a  broad,  low  edifice,  flattened  out  by  the 
weight  of  a  square  bell-tower.  Light  streamed 
through  its  windows  with  promise  of  warmth  and 
welcome ;  while  over  the  open  doors  were  these 
inscriptions :  "  Come,  for  all  things  are  now  ready," 
and  "Haste,  ye  sinner,  will  ye  die?" 

Neil  Breen  stopped  and  stared  hesitatingly;  then, 
as  a  young  man  stepped  forward  and  took  him  per 
suasively  by  the  arm,  he  entered  and  seated  himself 
in  one  of  the  rear  pews  of  the  well-filled  aud'torium. 

The  scene  was  one  of  emotional  excitement, 
which  the  presiding  clergyman,  by  frequent,  per 
sonal  exclamation,  did  not  fail  to  encourage.  In 
various  parts  of  the  church  men  were  wildly  ex 
horting,  indifferent  to  and  unconscious  of  their 


THE   SEAL  BROKEN  47 

mutual  interference.  Here,  women  were  weeping 
and  wringing  their  hands ;  there,  mere  children, 
either  ghastly  with  terror,  or  intoxicated  with  hope, 
were  sobbing  or  shouting.  At  the  steps  to  the  pul 
pit,  kneeling  penitents  muttered  their  sins  incoher 
ently.  Amens  resounded,  with  invocations  to  God, 
crude,  insistent. 

An  accumulating  magnetism  in  the  air  kept 
drawing  the  people  closer  and  closer  together.  Ex 
ample  bred  example;  contagion  spread  contagion. 
A  universal  impulse  swelled  and  predominated,  and 
its  purpose  was  confession  and  repentance.  The 
rush  of  its  tide  was  marked  by  the  progressive  loss 
of  self-control.  At  times,  the  whole  congregation 
was  on  its  feet,  with  waving  arms  and  swaying 
bodies,  as  if  under  a  possession.  At  times,  the 
united  outcry  was  a  roar,  discordant,  inhuman. 
Then,  just  as  spontaneously,  the  volume  harmonized 
and  melted  into  some  old  hymn,  attuned  to  tender 
memories  and  vibrant  with  tears.  In  such  an  ob 
session,  timidity  and  reserve  ceased  to  exert  any  in 
fluence.  Extravagant  imitation  ruled  the  assem 
blage  as  it  has  ruled  many  another  mob. 

But  Neil  Breen  remained  stolid  and  skeptical  in 
a  rear  pew.  Indeed,  disgust  began  to  succeed  won 
der,  as  he  heard  a  young  girl  in  the  aisle  scream  out 
shameful  self-accusations,  and  watched  a  woman  at 
the  rail  tear  her  gray  hair  in  an  agony  of  abasement. 


48        THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

There  was  no  relaxation  or  entertainment  in  all  this 
overwrought,  unnatural  relinquishment  of  the 
sanely  pleasant  qualities  which  had  bound  him  to 
people,  while  at  the  same  time  attracting  them  to 
him.  It  made  him  vaguely  discontented  and  dis 
pleased  with  the  world,  as  he  was  with  Mary  and 
Paul ;  and  he  would  have  no  more  of  it. 

As  Neil  rose,  about  to  seek  the  outer  darkness  in 
preference  to  such  inner  light,  a  tall,  elderly  man, 
in  clerical  dress,  aglow  with  the  ineffable  air  of  al 
ways  doing  the  right  thing  at  the  right  time,  sprang 
lightly  up  the  pulpit  steps,  the  presiding  clergyman 
yielding  readily  to  him,  and  stretched  out  his  hand. 
"  Peace,  be  still,"  he  commanded,  and  the  spiritual 
tempest  began  to  abate.  Neil  saw  that  it  was  the 
Rev.  Samuel  Sanderson,  his  wife's  pastor,  his  own 
personal  friend,  who,  had  he  been  asked,  he  would 
have  said  was  a  thousand  miles  away.  With  mouth 
agape,  he  settled  back  in  the  pew,  for  once  in  accord 
with  the  congregation  in  its  surprise  and  expecta 
tion. 

His  seemly  appearance,  his  confident  bearing, 
gave  Mr.  Sanderson  authority.  As  he  kept  his  long 
hand  extended,  his  gaze  steady  and  forceful,  his 
wide  mouth  spread  into  a  smile,  bland,  reassuring, 
certain,  the  neophytes  crept  away  from  the  rail,  the 
exhorters  lowered  both  voice  and  arm,  the  matrons 
arid  maids,  gulping  hysterically,  smoothed  their 


THE   SEAL   BROKEN  49 

gowns  and  set  their  faces  into  decorum.  The  little 
children  lost  their  precocity,  and  nestled  sleepily  up 
to  their  mothers.  A  Sabbatical  calm  prevailed. 

"  Dear  friends,"  began  the  preacher,  "  As  I,  a 
stranger  in  a  far  land,  came,  to-night,  through  di 
vine  guidance  into  this  your  Patmos,  I  felt  that  in 
deed  it  was  good  to  be  here.  It  is  by  means  of  such 
blessed  seasons  as  this  that  the  seed  of  the  Gospel 
fructifies,  even  as  the  tares  of  the  world  are  plucked 
out  and  cast  into  the  oven  to  be  burned.  Verily, 
your  church  is  a  city  set  on  a  hill,  and  its  light  shall 
not  be  hid." 

A  hum  of  approval  rose  from  the  congregation, 
and  many  a  stern  face  relaxed  into  complacency. 
Even  in  the  higher  life,  molasses  has  its  place  as  a 
staple  commodity. 

"  But,"  continued  Mr.  Sanderson,,  employing 
skilfully  the  oratorical  device  of  contrast,  "  man  at 
best  is  fallible  in  his  nature,  as  the  sparks  fly  up 
ward.  In  your  professions  and  confessions,  to 
which  it  has  been  my  privilege  to  listen,  I  detect  one 
grave  danger,  which  an  inner  voice  constrains  me 
to  call  to  your  prayerful  attention.  Therefore,  I 
say  unto  you,  be  not  righteous  overmuch.  In 
the  superabundant  joy  of  conversion,  we  are  prone 
to  fall  into  the  sin  of  selfishness.  To  confess  is  such 
a.  relief,  such  a  cleansing  and  washing  away  of  the 
foul  smudge  of  evil,  that  we  seem  to  forget  the 


50        THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

intimate  interrelations  of  this  mundane  existence, 
and  thus  may  become  unmindful  of  that  duty  toward 
one's  neighbors  which  is  the  second  great  command 
ment." 

A  stir  of  unease  vibrated  through  the  congrega 
tion;  for  none  are  so  sensitive  to  imputation  of 
fault  as  those  who  have  just  denounced  themselves 
as  miserable  sinners.  The  frowzy  girl,  who  had 
distinguished  herself  in  the  aisle,  tossed  her  head 
defiantly. 

"  The  worldly  have  a  saying,"  Mr.  Sanderson 
went  on,  "  taken  from  the  wisdom  of  ancient  Rome, 
and  now  established  through  inherent  verity  as  a 
legal  maxim,  or  self-evident  truth,  and  from  this 
saying  we  may  derive  a  lesson  of  advantage,  repu 
diate  and  despise,  though  we  do,  its  source  and  ad 
aptation.  It  is  to  this  effect :  —  'A  man  should  so 
use  his  own  as  not  to  injure  another.'  Of  course, 
in  a  wider,  more  spiritual  sense,  this  may  be  con 
strued  to  mean  that,  in  seeking  our  own  salvation, 
we  must  do  nothing  to  our  neighbor's  despite;  and 
here  the  philosophy  of  the  heathen  harmonizes  with 
the  sublime  teachings  of  our  Master. 

"  Open  confession,  then,  is  good  for  the  soul ; 
yet  I  say  unto  you  watch,  lest  it  injuriously  affect 
those  innocent  and  unoffending  little  ones  who  are 
in  your  especial  charge. 

"  Let  the  newly-born  Christian,  born  again,   in 


THE   SEAL  BROKEN  51 

that  mystical,  blessed  sense,  cast  his  burdens  on  the 
Lord.  The  Lord  will  surely  sustain  him.  But, 
when  reparation  for  wrong-doing  is  impossible, 
when  shame  and  crime  may  result  from  the  joys 
of  self-revelation,  then  let  him  hold  his  peace  and 
abide  in  silence.  Self-revelation  may  be  good;  but 
self-abnegation  is  often  better. 

"  Such,  dear  friends,  feebly  expressed,  imper 
fectly  stated,  are  the  reflections  that  have  come  to 
me  with  the  force  of  a  warning.  They  should  ren 
der  us  humble  and  vigilant,  ever  appreciative  that 
mortals,  even  while  seeking  immortality,  are  inclined 
to  err.  My  good  father,  long  since  gone  to  his  ever 
lasting  reward,  used  to  say  that  there  was  nothing 
like  a  story  to  drive  home  and  clinch  a  point;  and 
now  there  occurs  to  me  an  incident,  an  experience 
taken  from  my  own  pastorate,  so  illustrative  of  just 
what  I  have  been  trying  to  state  for  our  mutual 
edification,  that  I  am  constrained  to  relate  it  to  you." 

A  sigh  of  relief  rose  from  the  congregation,  and 
there  was  a  general  settling  back  for  the  enjoyment 
of  a  concrete  instance  —  that  morsel  of  human 
yeast  that  can  leaven  a  batch  of  abstractions.  That 
the  preacher,  in  the  fulness  of  his  heart,  was  about 
to  violate  those  principles  which  he  had  so  ably  laid 
down  seemed  for  the  moment  inconsistent  with  his 
holy  office  to  no  one,  and  least  of  all  to  himself. 

On  the  contrary,  Mr.  Sanderson  grew  more  bland 


52        THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

and  expansive  as  he  told  this  experience.  He  felt 
that  his  audience  must  see  him  as  he  now  appeared 
to  himself,  the  central  figure,  strong  and  sufficient, 
in  a  moving  picture  replete  with  human  emotions. 
Forgotten  were  the  mortifying  strictures,  the  pru 
dent  resolutions,  of  only  a  few  hours  before.  He 
mouthed  his  words  roundly,  as  if  to  prolong  their 
savor,  self-hypnotized  through  his  own  irrepressible, 
exhaustless  enthusiasm. 

"  It  was  during  an  awakening  of  unusual  power, 
vouchsafed  to  my  flock,"  he  said,  "  that  a  woman, 
still  young  and 'comely,  though  sorely  stricken  in 
health,  came  to  my  study  in  the  deepest  distress. 
Under  Providence,  some  word  of  mine  had  pierced 
through  the  armor  of  worldly  indifference  and  the 
deceitfulness  of  riches,  and  touched  her  conscience, 
her  heart.  A  sense  of  guilt  oppressed  her.  The 
past  was  black,  the  future  without  a  ray  of  hope. 
What  oh,  what,  should  she  do  to  be  saved? 

"  In  abasement  and  tears,  she  told  me  her  story, 
and  oh,  my  hearers,  what  a  lesson  there  is  in  it,  for 
you,  for  me,  for  us  all,  not  to  think  to  hide  our 
secret  sins  from  the  all-seeing  eye.  Though  appar 
ently  the  happy  wife  of  an  opulent  and  worthy  man, 
the  honored  mother  of  two  lovely  and  interesting 
children,  her  life  was  a  living  lie.  When  a  young 
girl,  romantic  and  silly,  and  under  circumstances,  I 
admit,  to  a  slight  degree  extenuating,  she  had 


THE   SEAL  BROKEN  53 

formed  a  meretricious  and  shameful  union  with  one 
of  the  youths  of  her  native  village,  who  had  soon 
basely  cast  her  aside.  -Concealing  these  dreadful 
facts,  she  had  then  hurriedly  married  her  present 
husband,  though  suspecting  —  aye,  knowing  —  that 
she  bore  in  her  bosom  the  fruits  of  her  sin.  This 
child,  born  in  wedlock,  was  of  course  accepted  and 
welcomed  by  the  husband  with  all  the  sacred  joys 
of  fatherhood ;  and  for  years  this  duplicity  had  con 
tinued,  this  imposition  had  been  maintained  as  if  a 
righteous  God  no  longer  reigned  in  the  heavens. 

"  But  the  icy  touch  of  disease,  the  fear  of  ap 
proaching  death,  broke  the  spell  of  deception,  and 
showed  this  woman  where  she  stood  —  on  the 
verge,  on  the  brink  —  with  the  things  of  earth  fa 
ding  from  her  sight,  with  eternity  yawning  endlessly 
before  her.  Terror-stricken,  she  confessed  herself 
to  me  as  to  God's  representative ;  nor  could  she  feel 
that  true  penance  had  been  made  until  she  also  con 
fessed  herself,  as  fully,  as  absolutely,  before  men. 

"  I  took  that  poor,  suffering  sinner  by  the  hand ; 
I  raised  her  up  from  the  mire  of  disgrace  and  de 
spair.  '  God  does  not  require  such  a  sacrifice  of  you, 
my  sister,'  I  said.  '  He  delights  rather  in  a  contrite 
heart.  The  old  dispensation  of  an  eye  for  an  eye, 
a  tooth  for  a  tooth,  has  passed  away.  In  perfect 
forgiveness  there  can  be  no  condition  save  that  of 
ceasing  from  evil  and  doing  good.  Undoubtedly, 


54       THE   CASE   OF   PAUL  BREEN 

justice  must  be  done;  the  right  way  will  manifest 
itself  through  prayer,  never  fear.  But  that  way 
cannot  be  right,  which,  without  effecting  any  equi 
table  readjustment,  would  drive  a  well-meaning  but 
violent  man  to  bloodshed,  bring  public  shame  on  a 
sensitive  lad,  and  fatal  knowledge  to  an  imaginative 
girl.  Remember  Paul's  highly  strung  nature,'  I 
warned ;  '  remember  little  Edith's  wayward  —  ' 

In  the  full,  headlong  rush  of  his  verbosity,  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Sanderson  stopped  short.  A  man  had 
emerged  from  the  obscurity  under  the  gallery  into 
the  full  glare  of  the  central  aisle.  For  an  instant  he 
stood,  his  face  livid  and  contorted,  his  strong  hands 
clutching  the  air,  his  shoulders  pressed  forward,  his 
back  bowed,  as  if  weighted  with  some  horrible  pur 
pose.  Then  he  rushed  out  into  the  darkness  and 
the  storm.  It  was  Neil  Breen. 

Mr.  Sanderson,  too,  for  a  like  instant,  stood  stiff 
and  staring,  as  if  transfixed  by  the  same  bolt.  Then 
he  raised  his  hands  in  proclamation  of  abject  woe. 
"  Oh,  the  foolishness  of  preaching,"  he  wailed. 
"  Let  him  that  thinketh  he  standeth,  take  heed  lest 
he  fall.  Pray,  brethren,  pray,  that  God  may  have 
mercy  on  me,  the  chief  of  sinners ;  pray,  pray  with 
out  ceasing  that  this  cup  may  pass ! " 

Hatless,  his  long,  thin  coat  flying  behind  him  like 
useless  habiliments  of  woe,  the  minister  rushed 
down  the  aisle  and  out  into  the  darkness  and  the 


THE   SEAL  BROKEN  55 

storm  —  the  congregation  gazing  after  him  in  mute 
amaze,  as  on  one  whom  much  learning  had  indeed 
made  mad. 

Out  into  the  darkness  and  the  storm  the  minister 
rushed,  to  wander  blindly,  indiscriminately,  guided 
only  by  the  instincts  of  remorse  and  dread.  The 
bitter,  beating  rain  had  cleared  the  streets  and 
blotted  out  the  friendly  glimmers  of  home.  Borne 
like  a  leaf  on  the  tempest,  he  drove  along,  seeking 
the  man  whom  his  own  folly  had  infuriated,  hoping 
to  find  him  before  greater  wrong  could  be  done. 

The  cold,  the  shiverings,  the  frequent  collisions 
with  post  and  branch,  the  surge  of  his  blood,  re 
sponsive  to  the  beat  of  the  wind,  the  thumpings  of 
his  heart,  deadening  the  dash  of  the  rain,  the  phys 
ical  pain,  so  empty  in  comparison  with  enthralling 
mental  agony,  all,  all,  were  unreal  to  him.  As  if  in 
a  dream  he  found  himself  inquiring  at  the  police  and 
railway  stations,  in  hotels  and  saloons,  accosting  the 
weary  compositors  coming  forth  from  the  news 
paper  offices,  and  the  hack-drivers  and  trolley-men 
huddled  about  the  sodden  coffee-stand,  learning 
nothing  anywhere,  but  everywhere  rousing  a  strange . 
apprehension  which  expressed  itself  in  kindly,  if 
rough,  warnings. 

It  was  long  after  midnight  when  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Sanderson  asked  at  the  desk  of  his  hotel  for  the 
key  to  the  apartments  he  had  engaged  with  such 


56        THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

simple,  joyous  anticipations  in  the  endless  aeons  of 
twenty-four  hours  ago.  The  clerk  looked  up,  genu 
inely  shocked  to  see  his  guest  in  such  a  pass. 

"  Bad  night,  Doc,"  he  said,  "  to  be  out  without 
urnbrel  or  greatcut  in  them  black  flimsies  of  yours. 
Better  take  a  stiff  go  of  quineen  and  juice  before 
retirin'.  Nobody  will  be  the  wiser  except  yours 
truly,  and  he'll  never  tell." 

"  My  daughter,  my  little  daughter,"  muttered  the 
minister  thickly.  "  You  remember  I  told  you  she 
will  join  me  here  in  the  morning,  brought  hither  by 
the  kind  friends  with  whom  she  has  been  visiting 
for  over  a  year?  Will  you  see  that  she  is  taken 
properly  to  the  room  I  have  secured  for  her,  next 
to  mine ;  for  I  may  slumber  late  —  I  am  weary,  oh, 
so  weary."  As  if  still  groping  in  the  dark  for  what 
he  could  not  find,  he  swayed  heavily  up  the  stairs. 

The  night-porter,  with  a  keen  glance  after  him, 
turned  to  the  clerk,  tapping  his  forehead  signifi 
cantly. 

'  Yes,"  agreed  that  functionary,  "  our  good 
brother  is  a  little  off  the  key  in  his  upper  register." 

Somehow,  despite  the  thickening  clouds  about 
him,  the  voices  calling,  he  knew  not  whither,  that 
so  distracted  his  purpose,  Mr.  Sanderson  entered  his 
room,  lighted  the  gas,  and,  taking  a  fountain-pen 
and  paper  from  his  satchel,  seated  himself  at  the 
table  and  began  to  write,  slowly,  painfully,  now  and 


THE   SEAL  BROKEN  57 

again  looking  around  as  if  uncertain  of  his  own 
identity  or  of  what  he  had  in  mind  to  do. 

Though  the  physical  pain  was  gone,  and  his  drip 
ping  garments  no  longer  chilled  his  blood,  increas 
ing  weakness  oppressed  him.  His  head  sunk  down 
on  his  hands ;  his  trembling  fingers  shirked  their 
task.  To  steady  himself  the  better,  he  took  an  old 
book  from  the  shelf  —  a  treasure  discovered  and 
purchased  the  previous  day  during  a  delightful 
search  through  the  shops  —  and,  settling  back  in  a 
great  arm-chair,  used  the  open  pages  as  a  desk. 
Ah,  that  was  better;  the  support  would  surely  en 
able  him  to  finish.  And  then,  then,  he  might  rest 
until  the  bright  sun  returned  bringing  with  it  the 
brighter  face  of  his  dear  daughter  Constance. 

Slowly,  painfully,  the  lines  were  penned,  vastly 
different  in  expression  and  writing  from  those  clear 
and  neat  discourses  in  which  he  had  taken  such  hon 
est  pride  during  the  long  years  of  his  labors  in  the 
vineyard.  At  length  the  trembling  fingers  ceased 
to  move,  the  head  plunged  forward,  and  then  leaned 
back,  the  pen  rolled  away  to  an  unheeded  corner, 
the  book  fell  shut  on  the  floor,  the  white  lips  mur 
mured  "  —  Of  whom  I  am  the  chief;  "  and  all  was 
still.  The  thickening  clouds  had  dissipated,  the 
mystic  voices  were  hushed;  so,  too,  the  faults  of  a 
good  man  had  disappeared  forever,  and  only  his 
virtues  endured. 


58        THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

The  storm  vanished  with  the  night.  The  bright 
sun  advanced  in  all  the  exultation  of  vital  power, 
and  brighter,  more  expectant  still,  was  the  face  of 
Constance  Sanderson  as  her  friends  brought  her  to 
the  hotel. 

"  Hain't  been  a  peep  out  o'  him,  Miss,"  said  the 
porter,  as  he  led  the  way  upstairs ;  "  but  you  kin 
rap  on  the  side-door  of  your  room,  and  he'll  be  a 
hearin'  of  you  fast  enough.  Lord,  but  he  was  full 
of  the  talk  of  your  tomin',  last  night !  " 

"  And  well  he  might,  too,"  continued  the  porter 
confidentially  to  the  clerk,  on  his  return  to  the 
office.  "  There's  nothin'  leery  about  that  slip  of  a 
girl  at  all  ewents.  She's  all  there,  with  bot'  feet, 
and  the  right  stuff,  too,  smilin'  cheery  and  givin' 
the  good  word,  as  if  to  an  old  friend.  It's  pretty 
she  is,  though  more  like  a  sinsible  human  than  a 
doll ;  with  her  great  brown  eyes  lookin'  so  brave 
and  true  at  yer,  and  her  thick  brown  hair  a  hangin' 
down  her  back,  as  if  she  was  a  good  mother  to 
herself.  No  wonder  the  gospel-sharp  was  hot  in 
the  neck  over  seein'  her;  I'd  hev'  been  so/  meself, 
belike." 

Constance  rapped,  and  then  rapped  again;  joy 
ously,  mischievously,  delighted  to  have  caught  her 
father  napping.  But,  when  only  silence  responded 
-that  intelligent,  brooding  silence,  that  knows  so 
much  and  would  withhold  its  knowledge  through 


THE   SEAL  BROKEN  59 

pity,  her  rappings  grew  feverishly  insistent.  She 
twisted  and  turned  the  knob;  she  shook  the  door, 
and  it  gave  way  before  the  impetus  of  her  fears. 
She  darted  into  the  shadowy  room. 

The  next  moment,  the  very  ghost  of  her  former 
blitheness,  she  shot  down  the  stairs  to  where  her 
friends  were  awaiting  a  pleasant  greeting  on  the 
porch.  "  He  is  dead,  father  is  dead,"  she  moaned; 
"  and  I  am  left  alone  and  comfortless." 

But,  after  the  first  shock  had  dissipated  itself  in 
merciful  grief,  the  stout  young  heart  of  the  girl, 
already  trained  by  responsibilities,  reasserted  its 
sway.  The  look  on  the  dead  man's  face  also  con 
soled  her.  He  had  been  so  weary;  he  had  found 
rest.  Why  should  she  mourn  when  a  peace  that 
passed  all  understanding,  but  not  all  belief,  so  mani 
festly  abided  with  him? 

Truly,  it  was  pitiful  that  he  should  have  died 
alone,  yet  sweet  and  assuaging  to  know  that  death 
had  come,  not  as  a  thief  in  the  night,  but  rather  as 
the  friend  who  creeps  up  behind  and  closes  the  book 
when  one  has  read  over-late  and  is  in  need  of 
sleep. 

He  had  always  found  comfort  in  reading,  and 
reading  had  comforted  his  last  moments.  The  cus 
tomary  image  of  him  formed  in  Constance's  mind 
by  a  succession  of  childish  impressions  showed  him 
in  his  great  arm-chair  gravely  studying  the  open 


60        THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

page.     Only  when  life's  task  had  finished,  did  the 
book  fall  from  his  grasp. 

So  the  child  tranquillized  her  heart;  so  she  deter 
mined  to  face  her  little  unknown  as  calmly  as  her 
father  had  faced  his  great  unknown.  The  thought 
of  what  he  would  have  her  do  was  always  with  her ; 
and,  as  she  started  on  a  new  and  eventful  stage  of 
her  journey,  tucked  away  with  her  most  precious 
possessions  was  the  book  that  he  had  been  reading, 
folded  in  the  softest  tissue-paper  and  tied  with 
black  ribbon,  reserved  and  set  apart  as  a  holy  relic. 


CHAPTER    V 
NEIL  BREEN'S  WILL 

MARY  BREEN  was  preparing  for  rest.  The  chil 
dren  were  abed  and  asleep.  In  her  own  room,  the 
night-lamp  was  burning  dimly  by  the  bed,  with 
snowy  coverings  turned  back.  There  was  peace, 
there  was  refinement  in  the  very  air  —  a  neatness,  a 
simplicity,  almost  virginal.  Something  of  this  same 
modest  grace  attended  Mary  in  her  final  prepara 
tions.  Her  hair  hung  about  her  like  an  aureole ;  her 
robe  clung  to  her  like  a  vestment.  In  her  melan 
choly  pose,  the  exalted  lift  of  her  head,  as  she  now 
and  again  paused,  absorbed  by  a  reverie  that  re 
curred  against  her  will,  there  was  the  abnegation 
and  surrender  of  a  martyr,  awaiting  a  doom  already 
pronounced. 

In  the  last  few  days,  Mary's  spirit  had  thus  been 
frequently  oppressed.  She  had  not  heard  from 
Neil  since  his  departure,  though  usually  his  pen  was 
as  garrulous  as  his  tongue.  The  time  set  for  his 
return  had  already  elapsed,  though  it  would  have 
been  like  him  to  surprise  her  by  anticipating  it. 

61 


62        THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

During  his  absence  she  had  been  very  ill,  and  she 
realized  that  the  end  was  not  far  off.  Stains  of 
blood  had  appeared  on  her  handkerchief,  recalling 
how  terrified  she  had  been  as  a  child  when  her 
mother  had  lain  back,  pale  and  gasping,  with  that 
same  dry  cough  racking  her  breast,  and  those  same 
fatal  signs  thickening  on  her  lips. 

That  gentle  mother,  taken  from  her  so  long  ago, 
when  she  had  most  needed  her  ministrations,  and 
almost  forgotten  in  that  struggle  for  protection  and 
safety  that  had  been  her  life,  once  more  seemed 
close  to  her.  She  heard  her  feeble  step,  and  the 
sweep  of  her  clothing;  she  even  felt  her  hand  on 
her  brow,  soothing  her,  preparing  her,  for  what? 
"  Ah,  well,"  sighed  Mary,  as  she  composed  herself 
for  the  night,  "  only  a  little  while,  perhaps  but  a 
few  hours,  and  all  these  things  will  fade  away." 

A  man  was  plodding  heavily  over  the  road  leading 
to  Gloriosa.  The  waning  light  of  evening,  while 
it  obscured,  yet  to  a  degree  accentuated  with  its 
shadows  the  squalor,  the  vice,  the  evil  and  violent 
passions  accompanying  him  as  a  retinue.  A  soft 
hat  was  pulled  low  over  his  roughly  bearded  face. 
His  clothing  was  dirty  and  disordered.  The  smell 
of  tobacco  and  alcohol  permeated  the  air  about 
him.  He  muttered  to  himself  broken  expressions 
of  disgust  and  hatred. 


NEIL  BREEN'S  WILL  63 

This  was  no  belated  wayfarer;  this,  no  light- 
hearted  tramp.  Either  he  was  one  habituated  to 
crime,  pressing  consistently  over  an  often-trod  way, 
or,  likelier  still,  he  was  one  who,  having  degen 
erated  and  retrograded,  was  now  resolutely  aban 
doning  the  good  of  later  years  for  the  bad  of  youth, 
and  finding  this  latter  state  even  worse  than  the 
first. 

A  little  lad,  sent  from  home  on  an  errand  to  a 
neighboring  house,  darted  across  his  path,  only  to 
be  grasped  and  halted  by  a  great,  resistless  hand. 

"  What's  your  name  ?  "  growled  the  man. 

"  Pau —  Paul,  if  you  please,  sir,"  faltered  the 
child. 

"  Then  take  that  for  a  misbegotten  brat !  "  And 
the  man,  as  if  maddened  by  the  chance  associations 
of  the  name,  spurned  him  with  a  heavy  buffet. 

The  little  lad  ran  home  to  soothe  his  heart  and 
hurt  in  his  mother's  lap.  The  night  descended,  close 
and  black,  blotting  out  the  twilight  and  hiding  the 
stars.  So,  too,  without  a  ray  of  kindliness  to  miti 
gate  the  dull  rage  possessing  him,  did  Neil  Breen 
keep  plodding  his  dogged  way  to  Gloriosa. 

It  was  late  when  Neil  Breen  reached  the  house, 
and,  at  another  time,  he  would  have  been  startled 
to  see  it  lit  so  brightly;  but,  to-night,  this  unusual 
sight,  if  noticed  at  all,  made  no  impression  on  him 
as  he  stumbled  up  the  steps.  Before  he  reached  the 


64        THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

door,  it  was  opened  by  a  weeping  maid,  who  started 
back  in  fright  as  she  saw  the  wild-eyed  man  before 
her.  In  a  moment  she  recognized  the  master  and, 
hiding  her  fear  at  his  appearance,  whispered  to  him 
between  sobs : 

"  Thank  God  you  have  come,  sir.    The  mistress  is 
dying ;    the  doctor  says  there  is  no  hope  for  her  — 
she  has  asked  for  you,  sir." 

For  a  full  minute  Neil  Breen  stood  motionless 
and  stared  at  the  girl.  Gradually  the  look  of  brutal 
passion,  of  drunken  fury,  faded  from  his  face  and 
was  succeeded  by  an  expression  of  sorrow  and 
anguish.  Forgotten  was  that  fell  purpose  cherished 
throughout  the  long  journey  —  he  only  remembered 
the  wife  who,  whatever  her  early  sin,  had  loved  him 
and  had  been  true  to  him;  the  wife  whom  he  had 
loved,  and  still  loved. 

He  staggered  up  the  stairs,  entered  the  room  and 
approached  the  bed  where  his  wife  was  lying,  pale 
and  motionless. 

As  if  she  knew  who  was  beside  her  she  opened 
her  eyes  and  gazed  weakly  at  him.  She  noted  his 
disordered  clothes,  his  unshaven  face,  his  blood-shot 
eyes,  and  instantly  the  truth  came  to  the  dying 
woman. 

"  I  know  what  you  have  found  out,  Neil,"  she 
whispered ;  "  you  need  not  tell  me.  I  know  how 
you  are  suffering;  but  do  you  think  I  have  not 


NEIL  BREEN'S  WILL  65 

suffered  for  years  as  you  are  suffering  now,  poor 
dear?" 

With  a  groan  her  husband  flung  himself  down 
beside  the  bed,  and  buried  his  face  in  the  clothes, 
while  great  sobs  shook  his  frame.  Mary  reached 
out  a  weak  hand  and  placed  it  on  his  bowed  head. 

"  I  do  not  ask  your  forgiveness,  dear,  —  for  all 
these  years  I  have  loved  you,  and  I  know  you  will 
forgive  me.  Besides,  dear,  I  am  dying,  —  but  there 
are  worse  things  than  dying,  Neil;  the  harder  part 
remains  for  you.  You  are  going  to  make  straight 
the  crooked  places.  You  are  going  to  be  the 
good,  brave  man  you've  always  been  to  me  — 
always,  I  say  —  taking  care  of  the  motherless  chil 
dren,  Edith  and  Paul  —  " 

"Paul!" 

"Would  you  harm  the  innocent?  Ah,  Neil,  I 
can  see  now,  when  it's  too  late,  how  I've  failed  in 
my  duty  to  that  poor  boy.  It  was  my  love  for  you 
that  made  me  prefer  our  own,  our  really  own  child, 
and,  now,  in  remembrance  of  that  love  you  must 
make  it  up  to  him.  Never,  never  —  promise  me  — 
shall  he  know  his  mother's  sin,  his  own  blight 
and  disgrace.  You  do  promise  me,  don't  you, 
Neil?" 

"  I  do,"  answered  Neil,  thickly.  "  But  the  man, 
the  man  ?  " 

"  The  man,  Neil,  passed  out  of  my  life,  the  little 


66        THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

life  that  now  only  holds  those  whom  I  love  and 
would  guard  even  from  themselves,  and,  pray  God, 
he  shall  never  come  within  it  again.  You  will  never 
know  his  name." 

"And  his  brat  must  be  the  same  as  my  son?" 
"  There  is  the  sting;  I  know  it,  but  I  ask  it  of 
your  love  for  me,  —  for  the  wife  who  loved  you  — 
and  is  dying.  Shield  him  from  humiliation,  bring 
him  up  properly,  teach  him  to  honor  his  mother's 
name,  prepare  him  for  life.  It's  not  the  money,  oh, 
no;  settle  that  part  as  you  will;  there's  many  a 
young  man  ruined  by  too  much  of  it.  Did  it  ever 
buy  me  happiness,  Neil?  And  now,  put  your  arms 
closer  around  me,  and  try  to  pray  for  us  both.  My 
heart,  my  breath,  are  going  out  of  me  —  dear  God, 
grant  peace  —  forgiveness  —  rest." 

The  golden  radiance  streamed  through  the  half- 
drawn  curtain,  sending  a  chill  to  the  heart  of  the 
man,  but  caressing  and  blessing  the  dying  woman. 
It  brought  to  her  the  message  for  which  she  had 
cried,  and  again  she  strove  to  stretch  out  her  poor 
arms  in  welcome.  What  did  she  see  in  those  mystic 
rays  reflected  from  the  limitless  bounds  of  the 
unknown?  What  did  she  hear  in  the  magic  har 
monies  of  their  silent  flight  through  space?  When 
a  low-lying  cloud  presently  shut  them  off  from 
earth,  Mary  Breen  was  gone  with  them;  but  she 
left  a  smile  behind  her. 


NEIL   BREEN'S   WILL  67 

Neil  Breen  met  his  bereavement,  as  he  had  met 
other  serious  and  sad  matters  of  life,  in  an  impul 
sive,  irrational,  and  extravagant  way.  The  funeral 
was  the  talk  of  the  town ;  and,  when  his  plans  for  a 
"  mortuary  chapel "  became  known,  local  pride 
spread  his  name  and  fame  far  and  wide.  Much 
was  written  about  his  personality  and  history,  the 
immense  fortune  he  had  accumulated,  the  poignancy 
of  his  grief,  and  the  priceless  works  of  art  that 
would  fittingly  enshrine  his  wife's  remains  and 
immortalize  her  memory. 

It  happened,  one  day,  that  some  such  account 
caught  the  notice  of  a  stranger  in  town  from  the 
East,  an  elderly  man,  prosperous  and  dignified,  yet 
with  a  responsive  twinkle  in  his  eye.  "  Can  that  be 
my  bold  Neil?  "  he  mused.  "  Sure,  'tis  as  near  to 
him  as  two  peas.  There's  nothing  like  the  luck  of  a 
lousy  calf,  as  they  used  to  say.  I'll  go  and  see 
at  all  events." 

An  hour  later,  the  two  brothers,  after  a  separation 
of  half  a  lifetime,  were  seated  together  in  the  library 
at  Neil's  home. 

Philip  Breen  gave  a  very  good  report  of  himself. 
He  was  a  merchant  of  recognized  wealth  and  stand 
ing  in  Hamlin.  He  had  a  fine  house  on  the  banks 
of  the  river,  a  few  miles  from  town,  where  he  lived 
with  his  wife  and  their  son  Adolph.  He  had  had 
his  ups  and  downs,  but  had  come  out  from  them  all 


68        THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

the  more  prosperous.  Life  was  a  game  to  be  sure; 
but,  if  a  man  kept  his  nerves  and  wits,  he  was 
certain  to  win.  "  You  don't  look  much  like  a 
winner  yourself,  Neil,"  he  added,  "  for  all  the  big 
talk.  What's  wearing  on  you,  man  ?  " 

"  I'm  fagged  out,"  replied  Neil,  wearily,  "  and 
feel  that  I  should  get  about  setting  my  house  in 
order  for  the  last  time." 

"  Nonsense,  you're  too  young  a  man,  from  too 
vigorous  a  stock,  to  think  of  dying." 

"  It  isn't  thinking  so  much  of  dying  as  so  little 
of  living." 

"  But  do  you  mean  to  imply,"  asked  Philip,  his 
business  instincts  rising,  "  that  you  haven't  already 
taken  the  ordinary  precaution  of  making  a  will?" 

"  It's  got  to  be  thought  out  first,"  replied  Neil 
stolidly,  "  before  it  is  written." 

"  There  shouldn't  be  any  difficulty  about  that," 
Philip  went  on  briskly,  "  you  having  only  the  two 
children,  and  your  affairs  in  the  first-class  shape 
you've  been  telling  me.  Of  course,  I  don't  know 
what  you  are  mulling  over  in  your  mind,  and  I 
don't  want  to  know,  since  it's  no  business  of  mine. 
It's  half  indigestion,  I'll  warrant,  anyway.  But 
don't  you  put  yourself  in  the  hands  of  any  cheap, 
local  pettifogger.  The  only  kind  of  advice  worth 
buying  is  that  which  commands  the  highest  price  in 
the  judgment  of  the  commercial  world.  Now,  I'll 


NEIL   BREEN'S   WILL  69 

tell  you  what  I  will  do.  My  lawyer  is  coming  west 
presently  on  this  same  little  matter  of  mine,  and  I'll 
have  him  stop  off  and  have  a  talk  with  you.  Take 
him  all  in  all,  he's  about  the  best  the  market  affords. 
His  name  is  John  Strain." 

"  John  Strain  ?  "  repeated  Neil,  curiously.  "  It 
seems  to  me  that  I  have  heard  or  read  something -of 
him,  though  I  don't  know  what  or  where.  Tell  me 
about  him." 

"  He's  after  our  sort,  Neil ;  sprung  from  the  soil, 
and  making  his  way  with  his  hands  and  his  brains. 
True,  he  married  well;  but  it  took  a  man  of  reso 
lution  to  do  that  —  ha,  ha  —  when  you  think  of  the 
wife  he  chose.  But  you  can't  buy  learning,  industry, 
faithfulness,  grit;  the  dread  of  other  lawyers,  the 
respect  of  the  judges;  and  these  are  the  things  he's 
been  piling  up  gradually  year  after  year.  He's  a 
fighter,  is  John  Strain;  with  the  strength  and  grip 
of  a  bulldog.  Once  he  tackles  a  case,  he  never  lets 
go.  Honest  and  fearless  —  Lord,  how  he  has  had 
the  ring  of  corruptionists,  who  have  been  looting  our 
city  for  years,  on  their  ham-bones  before  him. 
'What's  the  least  you'll  do  to  us?'  they  implored. 
*  The  full  extent,'  he  answered,  and  they  got  it, 
too.  It  may  take  time  —  everything  that  John 
Strain  does  must  take  time,  he's  so  thorough,  so 
complete  —  but  in  the  end  I  believe  he'll  change  the 
political  complexion  of  our  county  —  Oleida  County, 


70        THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

you  know  —  and  then  he  can  have  any  place  he 
wants  in  the  gift  of  the  people.  What  a  district 
attorney  he  would  make;  what  a  district  attorney 
he  would  make! 

"  But  all  that  is  neither  here  nor  there,"  continued 
Philip;  "  the  point  I  want  to  make  is  that  here  is  a 
bang-up  lawyer,  at  your  disposal  in  your  house- 
cleaning,  without  costing  you  a  cent  either.  It  will 
all  come  out  of  the  general  retainer  I  give  him  — 
now  what  do  you  say?  " 

"  No,"  answered  Neil,  doggedly;  "  there  are  some 
things  that  must  be  thought  out  alone,  no  matter 
how  good  the  man  may  be  that  is  offering  advice. 
I'll  go  to  no  local  pettifogger,  never  fear.  When  I 
know  just  what  I  want  to  do,  then  I'll  set  about  it  in 
my  own  w-ay.  It  may  be  a  clumsy  one,  belike,  but 
it  gets  there  all  right,  I  notice,  for  all  that.  So, 
drop  it,  Philip.  Perhaps,  after  all,  you  may  have 
the  chance  some  day  of  fixing  over  my  affairs  with 
your  friend  Strain,  but  not  now,  not  now." 

The  brothers  parted  with  that  indifferent  affec 
tion  to  which  absence  has  no  significance,  and  they 
never  met  again.  Neil  gathered  together  the  frag 
ments  of  what  remained  after  the  one  great  cata 
clysm  of  his  life,  and  tried  to  make  the  best  of  them. 
The  children  were  brought  up  in  comfort,  and 
furnished  proper  instruction,  but  he  saw  little  of 
them.  Each  in  a  way  was  painful  to  him;  Paul 


NEIL  BREEN'S   WILL  71 

through  what  he  was  not,  and  Edith  through  what 
she  was.  He,  therefore,  kept  much  by  himself,  and 
the  habit  grew  with  the  years  until  he  became  a 
moody  recluse,  existing  mechanically.  Thinking 
little  of  dying,  but  less  of  living,  his  health  gradually 
gave  way;  for  cherished  purpose  of  some  sort  is 
the  surest  guard  against  mortality. 

And  so,  at  length,  he  died;  and  Philip  Breen  did 
have  the  chance  of  fixing  up  his  brother's  affairs 
with  his  friend  Strain.  After  the  funeral,  he  found 
the  will  in  an  envelope  addressed  to  him.  It  was  a 
holograph,  clumsy  and  crude,  embodying  Neil's 
prejudices,  affected,  so  far  as  they  could  be  affected, 
by  the  promises  he  had  made  to  Mary  on  her 
death-bed. 

The  will  started  with  a  long,  rambling  dissertation 
on  the  disadvantages  and  dangers  of  wealth  to  a 
young  man.  It  then  branched  off  into  a  laborious 
argument  showing  that  property  of  every  sort 
should  descend  preferably  in  the  female  line. 
Coming  down  to  particulars,  it  discussed  the  char 
acteristics  of  the  two  children,  maintaining  that 
Edith's  wild,  undisciplined  nature  should  be  fortified 
and  protected  by  all  the  safeguards  that  money  can 
command,  including  "  the  pick  of  the  world  for  a 
husband ; "  and  that  Paul's  abilities  might  bring 
fame  to  himself,  and  benefit  to  mankind,  if  only 
developed  under  the  incentives  of  need  and  hope. 


72        THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

Having  laid  down  these  premises,  the  will  pro 
vided  as  follows : 

The  sum  of  fifty  thousand  dollars  was  bequeathed 
to  Paul  on  reaching  the  age  of  forty,  on  the  condi 
tion  that  he  had,  at  that  time,  an  established  fame 
as  a  benefactor  of  the  human  race. 

Subject  to  this  contingent  bequest,  the  entire 
estate  was  left  absolutely  to  Edith,  on  marrying  or 
reaching  her  majority. 

In  case  of  Edith's  death,  while  unmarried  and  a 
minor,  and  in  that  case  only,  Paul  inherited  the 
property. 

Evidently  Mary's  dying  words  had  been  potential 
with  her  husband.  She,  herself,  in  her  anxiety  to 
save  Paul  from  repudiation  and  disgrace,  had  laid 
the  foundation  for  this  discrimination  by  saying 
that  it  was  not  the  money  she  was  worrying  about, 
and  that  it  had  proved  the  ruin  of  many  a  young 
man.  When  to  this  suggested  compromise  were 
added  Neil's  own  private  thoughts  regarding  the 
children,  the  result  arrived  at  was  not  surprising. 

Clumsy  and  crude  as  this  disposition  was,  it 
showed  that  tendency  to  arrive  which  its  maker  had 
predicted.  What  was  there  to  be  said  against  it? 
It  was  simple,  direct,  certain,  made  by  the  testator 
with  his  own  hand,  when  undoubtedly  of  sound 
mind  and  memory.  True,  it  discriminated  against 
Paul ;  but  the  motives  for  such  discrimination  were 


NEIL  BREEN'S  WILL  73 

founded  in  solicitude  and  love,  and  appealed  to  the 
best  judgment  of  many  men.  Philip  Breen,  who 
was  named  as  executor  and  guardian  of  the  children, 
sputtered  somewhat  over  what  he  was  going  to  do 
to  rectify  Neil's  dyspeptic  mullings;  but,  in  the  end, 
entered  into  his  trust.  Under  the  skilful  manage 
ment  of  John  Strain,  probate  was  had,  active  busi 
ness  was  settled,  scattered  assets  collected,  and  the 
great  fortune  finally  invested  in  the  proper  securi 
ties,  to  be  held  in  trust  until  either  Edith  should 
take  it,  subject  to  the  conditional  bequest,  on  marry 
ing  or  coming  of  age,  or  Paul  should  take  it 
through  Edith's  death,  during  minority  and  while 
single. 

Paul  and  Edith  went  to  live  with  Philip  Breen 
at  his  river-side  home  near  Hamlin.  To  the  strange 
incompatibility  which  had  always  separated  them, 
over  which  Mary  had  grieved  and  Neil  had  delib 
erated,  the  fact  now  was  added,  ominous  at  least  to 
the  curious,  the  interested  and  the  suspicious,  that 
the  great  prosperity  of  the  one  was  inevitably 
conditioned  on  the  grave  misfortune  of  the  other. 
And  not  yet,  as  Mary  had  fondly  hoped,  was  the 
tragedy  ended  in  peace. 


CHAPTER    VI 

THE    THREE    CHILDREN 

PHILIP  BREEN  was  enough  like  his  brother  to  be 
lieve  that  variety  in  the  nature  of  children  is  desir 
able,  and  he  had  no  reason  to  complain  of  any  uni 
formity  among  the  three  that  fate  had  gathered  in 
his  big  house  on  the  Hamlin  River. 

"  It's  well  I  have  plenty  of  room  for  them,"  he 
remarked  to  his  wife,  "  or  they'd  be  like  cats  in  a 
bag.  There's  Edith,  now,  who  wants  to  know 
everybody's  affairs,  and  yet  can't  keep  still  long 
enough  to  make  sure  of  anything  for  fear  she'll 
miss  something  else.  Edith?  Neil,  poor  fellow, 
should  have  named  her  Will-o'-the-Wisp.  As  for 
Paul,  he'd  do  well  for  a  milestone  or  a  surveyors' 
bench-mark.  Give  him  some  of  his  scientific  con 
traptions,  and  you're  sure  to  find  him  where  you  left 
him,  providing  that  plague  of  the  world,  Edith, 
hasn't  driven  him  into  his  burrow.  You  mark  my 
words,  Paul  will  amount  to  something  in  the  world, 
either  bad  or  good.  What  he  says  —  which  is  little 
enough,  I'll  allow  —  is  always  worth  hearing.  He's 

74 


THE  THREE   CHILDREN  75 

bound  to  help  or  hinder,  I  don't  say  which.  Didn't 
he  ask  you  to  let  him  have  the  use  of  that  room  in 
the  north  attic  ?  " 

"  I  believe  he  did,"  answered  Mrs.  Breen,  slowly. 
She  never  wasted  energy  in  either  useless  words  or 
aimless  actions.  This  quietness  was  what  had  at 
tracted  her  husband.  He  had  enterprise  where  his 
brother  Neil  had  had  restlessness ;  but  he  had  shown 
wisdom  in  choosing  his  opposite  for  his  wife. 
While  he  was  discussing  the  characters  of  the  young 
people,  she  was  reading  the  morning  paper,  for  they 
were  at  breakfast. 

"  What  did  he  want  it  for?"  Philip  inquired. 

"  A  work-room,"  she  replied,  after  she  had  fin 
ished  a  paragraph. 

"  Let  him  have  it,  then.  He  resembles  his  father 
in  one  respect,  at  least,  he  likes  to  mull.  Have  a 
good  lock  put  on  the  door,  and  he  can  have  one 
refuge  for  himself  and  his  traps." 

"  Adolph  wanted  it,  too,"  said  Mrs.  Breen. 

"  No  matter,"  Philip  insisted,  "  give  it  to .  Paul. 
Adolph  will  get  all  that's  coming  to  him  and  a  little 
more,  maybe.  I'm  not  so  sure  that  he  didn't  want 
it  only  because  he  knew  that  Paul  was  after  it. 
Those  two  don't  get  along  together  any  too  well, 
and,  though  Adolph  is  my  own  son,  I'm  bound  to 
look  after  Paul  as  if  he-  were  my  own.  Owing  to 
that  cranky  will  of  Neil's  he's  got  to  make  a  way 


76        THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

for  himself  in  the  world,  so  he  ought  to  have  free 
swing.  Luckily  there  is  income  enough  to  give 
him  the  best  education  and  something  over.  By  the 
way,  can  it  be  that  he  has  some  idea  in  his  mind 
about  winning  that  fifty  thousand  dollars?  Forty 
years  of  age  to  most  lads  seems  just  this  side  of 
death.  But  you're  not  listening,  Gertrude?" 

"  I've  heard  all  you  said,"  she  replied,  rising. 
"  Paul  shall  have  the  room.  I'll  have  it  cleared  out 
for  him.  It  will  be  a  good  thing  to  confine  all  his 
messes  to  one  place.  But  now  I  must  attend  to 
my  housekeeping." 

Different  as  Paul  and  Edith  were  in  most  re 
spects,  they  were  alike  in  their  impressions  of  their 
cousin  Adolph.  Though  he  was  good-looking,  of 
pleasant  address,  intelligent,  and  never  out  of 
'temper,  he  made  them  both  uneasy  in  his  presence 
and  doubtful  of  his  sincerity.  Edith  was  always 
attempting  to  irritate  Adolph  into  some  misbe 
havior,  but  never  succeeded.  He  never  resented  her 
open  hostility,  nor  replied  to  her  fierce  tirades ;  but 
she  soon  learned  that  he  could  not  be  attacked  with 
impunity.  His  retaliations  were  always  effective, 
but  never  confessed.  If  she  flung  one  of  his  books 
into  the  river,  she  soon  after  missed  a  favorite  doll. 
She  would  then  run  to  her  aunt  and  lodge  informa 
tion  against  Adolph,  only  to  find  herself  helpless 
for  lack  of  proof.  He  would  deny  all  knowledge 


THE  THREE   CHILDREN  77 

of  the  loss,  and  this  with  a  calm,  though  sorrowful 
indifference  that  imposed  upon  every  one.  Once, 
carried  away  by  her  rage,  she  struck  him;  where 
upon  he  tripped  her  up  and  threw  her  heavily  to  the 
ground,  and  then  walked  slowly  away  with  un 
ruffled  dignity,' 

Paul  also  |6und  his  cousin  not  at  all  desirable  as 
a  companion.  The  two  never  quarrelled,  but  there 
was  a  latent  animosity  between  them.  Adolph  was 
a  hard  student,  and  easily  excelled  Paul  in  all  studies 
except  mathematics,  for  which  the  latter  had  un 
usual  aptitude  and  a  strong  taste.  But  Adolph's 
supremacy  gave  him  no  pleasure  since  Paul  was 
absolutely  unmoved  by  it.  He  used  to  taunt  Paul 
with  wasting  his  time,  interjecting  many  an  adroit 
and  veiled  reference  to  the  fifty  thousand  dollars 
worth  of-  fame  that  might  be  his ;  but  Paul  would 
listen  as  if  thinking  of  something  else.  When  they 
went  to  college  there  was  the  same  relation  between 
them.  Paul  became  popular,  but  refused  to  be  made 
prominent.  Adolph  achieved  prominence  by  sheer 
ability,  and  could  fix  upon  no  cause  for  an  unpopu 
larity  which  he  deeply  regretted,  and  for  which  he 
secretly  blamed  Paul. 

After  graduation  they  both  entered  the  profes 
sional  schools  in  New  Chester,  from  which,  in  due 
course,  they  returned  home,  Adolph  with  a  degree 
of  LL.  B.,  summa  cum  laude,  and  Paul,  with  a 


78        THE   CASE   OF   PAUL  BREEN 

hardly-won  sheepskin,  dubbing  him  M.  D.,  to  which 
he  attached  apparently  not  the  slightest  importance. 

Philip  Breen  called  the  young  men  into  the 
library,  one  evening,  and  (shutting  out  Edith,  who 
protested  in  vain  against  her  exclusion)  bade  them 
sit  down,  for  he  wished  to  talk  over  their  future. 

When  they  were  settled,  Philip  Breen  took  his 
place  in  a  particularly  large  and  impressive,  stuffed 
leather  chair  —  his  favorite  throne  when  acting  the 
part  of  an  official  paterfamilias  —  and  began  what 
sounded  like  a  previously  prepared  address. 

"  You  are  now,"  he  said,  "  upon  the  threshold  of 
your  practical  life,  and  for  the  first  time  are  called 
upon  to  make  a  distinctive  and  definite  choice  of  a 
career." 

Adolph,  at  this  point,  interrupted  him.  "  Say, 
father,"  he  asked  drawlingly,  "  I  don't  like  to  cut 
you  off,  but  haven't  you  made  a  slight  mistake  ?  " 

Philip  looked  annoyed  and  then  puzzled.  "  Mis 
take?  How  do  you  mean?"  he  inquired. 

"  You're  about  two  years  late  with  your  speech, 
sir.  It  sounds  something  like  the  beginning  of  a 
baccalaureate  sermon.  Our  toes  would  get  cold  on 
the  threshold  all  this  time." 

"  Adolph,"  said  Paul,  "  let's  hear  what  your 
father  has  to  say.  You  know  what  he  means  well 
enough.  We're  both  just  out  of  school.  What's 
the  use  of  interrupting  him  ?  " 


THE  THREE   CHILDREN  79 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mind,"  Adolph  answered,  lighting 
a  cigarette,  "  only,  after  spending  six  years  in  get 
ting  ready  to  practise  law,  it  does  jar  one  a  little  to 
be  advised  about  choosing  a  career." 

"  There's  more  than  a  degree  in  being  a  lawyer," 
said  Mr.  Breen,  "  and  there's  many  an  LL.  B.  to 
whom  the  practice  of  the  law  is  a  howling  wilder 
ness.  ^As  you  get  older  and  wiser,  Adolph,  you  may 
have  more  respect  for  your  father's  opinion.  But 
we  are  wasting  time.  So  with  your  kind  permission, 
my  son  —  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  I'm  sure,"  said  Adolph, 
easily.  "  I'm  all  attention.  There's  nothing  like 
being  told  what  to  do  after  you  have  done  it." 

"  You  both  have  now  reached  the  point  where 
you  must  choose  your  life-work,  and  —  and  I  want 
to  know  your  decision,"  resumed  Philip  Breen, 
evidently  abandoning  his  oration  in  despair.  "  You, 
first,  Adolph ;  since  you  are  so  cocksure." 

"  I  should  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  that  I 
mean  to  acquire  a  practice  as  soon  as  possible," 
Adolph  answered.  "  It  suits  my  tastes  and  purposes 
in  life,  so  far  as  I  feel  justified  in  having  such 
things  —  " 

"  So  I  have  judged,"  interrupted  his  father, 
"  and  on  that  opinion  I  have  already  acted.  I  don't 
know  a  better  man  for  you  to  begin  with  than  John 
Strain.  He  was  my  attorney  in  the  canal-contract 


80        THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

case,  and  has  had  a  general  retainer  from  me  ever 
since.     I  wrote  him  a  week  ago,  asking  whether  he 
could  make  room  for  you  in  his  office,  and  here  is 
his  answer."     He  tossed  the  letter  on  the  table. 
Adolph  read  it  aloud. 

JOHN  STRAIN, 
COUNSELOR  AT  LAW. 

"  MY  DEAR  MR.  BREEN  :  —  * 

"  You  ask  me  to  grant  as  a  favor  what  I  shall 
deem  it  a  privilege  to  accept.  Your  son's  record  at 
the  law-school  augurs  well  for  his  future.  I  shall 
be  very  glad  to  talk  with  him  as  to  making  the  final 
arrangements  for  receiving  him  in  my  office.  Ask 
him  to  call  soon,  at  about  two  o'clock. 

"  Your  very  humble  and  obedient  servant, 

"JOHN  STRAIN. 

"  MR.  PHILIP  BREEN." 

Adolph's  eyes  sparkled.  "  I'd  rather  be  in  Strain's 
office  than  in  any  in  the  city,"  he  exclaimed ;  "  you 
did  a  good  job  there,  father." 

"  Well,  it  takes  you  off  the  threshold,  at  all 
events.  And  now,  Paul,  I  wish  you  were  as  easily 
started." 

"  I  wish  I  were,"  agreed  Paul,  smiling  affec 
tionately  at  his  uncle.  "  But  I'm  afraid  you  can't 
give  me  either  of  the  things  I  most  need." 

"  Let's  hear  what  they  are,"  answered  Mr.  Breen. 


THE  THREE   CHILDREN  81 

"  For  though  my  brother,  for  reasons  best  known  to 
himself,  has  practically  cut  you  out  of  your  inherit 
ance,  I,  thank  the  Lord,  have  enough  for  you.  I 
don't  agree  with  his  ideas,  and  I  don't  feel  bound 
by  them.  Neil  and  I  always  had  our  differences, 
when  we  were  most  together,  rest  his  soul;  so,  what 
else  could  be  expected,  after  he  had  turned  himself 
into  a  permit  ?  Let  me  know,  then,  what  you  mean 
to  do,  and  we'll  see  whether  I  can't  give  you  a 
helping  hand." 

"  No  doubt  my  father  thought  he  was  right," 
said  Paul.  "  I  was  a  quiet,  thoughtful  child,  and  he 
had  an  exaggerated  idea  of  my  natural  ability.  I  am 
sure  he  was  convinced  that  the  course  he  pursued 
was  the  one  to  develop  it.  I  don't  care  about  the 
money  —  " 

"  We  none  of  us  do,"  murmured  Adolph. 

"  But  I  do  hope  to  do  something  for  the  sake  of 
his  pride  in  me,"  continued  Paul,  with  heightened 
color. 

"  Then  let  me  hear  what  you  want,"  said  Philip 
impatiently.  "  Come,  speak  out." 

"  I  will,"  Paul  answered,  seriously  enough.  "  I 
need  two  things  —  more  time  and  more  brains." 

"  Two  trifles  that  have  tripped  up  many  another 
would-be  benefactor  of  his  kind,"  soliloquized 
Adolph. 

Philip  Breen  looked  disappointed.    He  had  always 


82        THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

resented  Paul's  silence  about  his  chief  interests. 
He  believed  that  he  had  certain  projects  which  he 
would  declare  at  the  right  season,  and  he  had  hoped 
that  his  offer  of  assistance  would  be  met  with 
frankness.  So  now  he  sat  in  silence  for  a  moment 
or  two. 

"  You're  a  queer  lad,"  at  length  he  said ;  "  there's 
little  of  the  Breens  in  you,  and  that's  not  to  be 
gainsaid.  I  can't  do  much  for  you,  I'm  afraid.  So 
far  as  brains  go,  I  think  you  have  your  share,  my 
boy.  And  as  for  time,  why,  if  you  really  have  your 
father's  bequest  in  mind,  there's  nearly  seventeen 
years  ahead  of  you.  But,  it  may  be  you  speak  in 
parables.  '  Time  is  money,'  they  say.  So  I'll  do  my 
best  to  solve  your  riddle,  Paul.  You  may  have  a 
home  here,  and  welcome,  till  you  choose  to  go  else 
where.  I  can't  pay  you  any  more  of  the  income 
from  the  estate;  the  accumulations  are  about 
exhausted.  But  perhaps  this  can  help  you  out  a 
bit."  So  saying,  he  drew  his  check-book  from  the 
drawer  of  the  table,  filled  out  a  check  for  one 
thousand  dollars,  and  handed  it  over.  "  There,  buy 
glass  retorts  and  chemicals  with  it,  or  what  you 
like,  till  you  need  more,  my  boy,"  he  continued. 
"  Keep  your  own  counsel,  too,  'tis  every  man's 
privilege ;  but  remember  you've  a  place  in  your 
uncle's  heart  as  well  as  in  his  home  so  long  as  you 
care  to  keep  both." 


THE  THREE   CHILDREN  83 

"  I  have  a  plan  of  my  own,"  Paul  said,  moved  by 
his  uncle's  generosity  of  word  and  deed,  "  but  truly 
it  is  not  the  time  to  talk  of  it  yet.  You  may  be  sure 
no  one  will  know  about  it  before  yourself,  Uncle 
Philip." 

"  Unless  Edith  gets  a  key  to  your  den  of  mys 
teries,"  suggested  Adolph.  "  She's  a  regular  Blue 
beard's  wife  about  that  room  of  yours." 

"  There  is  nothing  there  which  concerns  her  in 
any  way,  or  any  one  else,  either,"  Paul  replied, 
somewhat  fiercely.  "  I've  expressly  forbidden  her 
to  come  into  it." 

"  We'll  have  a  search-warrant  out  some  day," 
Adolph  went  on,  "  unless  we  have  first  to  issue  a 
writ  de  lunatico  to  stop  your  practice  of  the  Black 
Art.  Come,  Paul,  why  don't  you  chuck  all  that 
into  the  river,  and  get  down  to  the  practical  hard- 
pan,  the  same  as  I  have  to  do?  You  know  it's  all  a 
pretence." 

Paul  made  no  reply,  and,  as  just  then  Philip 
Breen  rose,  all  three  returned  to  the  parlor.  As 
they  entered,  Edith  exclaimed : 

"  You  needn't  think  you  monopolize  all  the  family 
councils.  Aunt  Gertrude  and  I  have  been  holding 
one  for  ourselves,  and  I  have  a  piece  of  news  for 
you.  One  that  will  delight  you  both  —  Uncle  Philip 
knows  it  already." 

"  Well,"    said   Adolph,   picking   up   a   magazine 


84        THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

and    turning    over    the    leaves,    "  break    it    to    us 
gently." 

"  I'm  going  to  boarding-school." 
"  Good  idea.     Only  you  won't  stay." 
"  Where  do  you  go?  "  Paul  asked,  "  and  when?  " 
"  To  the  Cedars,"  said  Edith ;  "  and  I  start  next 
week."      And,    while    Adolph    read    and     Paul's 
thoughts  were  plainly  enough  elsewhere,  she  rattled 
on,   giving   full   particulars   about   the   school,   the 
grounds,  the  girls  and  everything  else  she  knew  on 
the  subject,  until  bedtime  silenced  her. 

Adolph  Breen  entered  upon  the  busy  and  labo 
rious  work  of  a  young  attorney,  and  was  soon,  as  he 
deserved,  high  in  favor  with  the  able  lawyer,  John 
Strain.  He  attracted  his  chiefs  attention  not  more 
by  his  diligence  than  by  his  ability,  while  methods 
of  detail  which  might  not  have  met  with  approval 
escaped  notice  in  the  engrossment  of  larger  affairs. 
Every  mature  man  of  unusual  powers  needs  a 
younger  executive,  and,  in  Adolph,  John  Strain  had 
found  a  second  self,  quick  to  comprehend,  fertile  in 
resource,  painstaking  and  unwearied  in  carrying  out 
whatever  was  entrusted  to  him. 

One  day,  when  Adolph  had  succeeded  by  a  bril 
liant  manoeuvre  in  collecting  what  was  thought  a 
hopeless  judgment,  Strain  not  only  gave  him  due 
meed  of  praise,  but  invited  him  to  a  dinner  given 
in  his  honor. 


I 
THE  THREE   CHILDREN  85 

Adolph  thought  the  formal  dinner  rather  a  bore, 
but  it  proved  to  have  an  interest  for  him  far 
exceeding  that  of  any  event  of  his  life.  He  met, 
that  evening,  three  surprises. 

On  his  arrival,  Mrs.  Strain  called  him  to  one 
side.  "  Where  was  he?  "  she  whispered,  her  white, 
pinched  face  twitching  with  nervous  excitement. 
"  Where  was  he  last  night ;  what  made  him  so 
late?" 

"  It  was  nothing,  my  dear  madam,  I  assure  you," 
answered  Adolph  with  a  solicitous  air,  "  nothing 
except  an  important  conference  with  the  Attorney 
General,  which  detained  us  both,  until  all  hours,  at 
the  office." 

Abigail  Alice's  lean  face  softened,  and  she  put 
out  her  hand. 

"  You  will  always  tell  me  ? "  she  murmured. 
"  That's  right ;  I'm  grateful,  I  am  your  friend. 
You  will  see  what  I  have  done  for  you  before  the 
evening  is  over." 

Adolph,  in  his  frequent  meetings  with  Mrs. 
Strain,  had  always  answered  her  jealous  inquiries 
courteously  and  confidentially,  but  without  any 
reflection  save  a  passing  sense  of  amused  pity. 
Now,  he  was  surprised  by  the  fervor  of  jealous 
passion  possessing  her,  and  resolved  that  he  would 
make  of  it  an  ally  for  his  own  advancement. 

Then,  this  evening,   for  the  first  time,  he  met 


86        THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

Constance  Sanderson,  Mrs.  Strain's  new  companion, 
and  began  to  realize  the  meaning  of  the  phrase 
"  falling  in  love."  He  learned  subsequently  that 
she  was  from  the  west,  the  daughter  of  a  minister 
who  had  died  suddenly,  leaving  her  a  mere  pittance ; 
that  John  Strain  had  been  so  much  impressed  with 
her,  while  she  was  acting  as  an  instructor  at  a 
Seminary  of  which  he  was  a  trustee,  that  he  had 
ventured  to  suggest  her  employment  to  his  wife, 
when  she  had  complained  of  the  loneliness  of  her 
life ;  and  that,  most  unexpectedly,  this  exacting  lady 
had  not  only  adopted  the  advice,  but,  thus  far,  had 
got  along  amicably  with  this  new  member  of  the 
family  circle  —  a  fact  which  to  Adolph's  judgment 
spoke  volumes  in  favor  of  Constance's  tact  and 
forbearance. 

Constance  was  daintily  made,  had  rippling  chest 
nut  hair,  beautiful  dark  eyes,  and  a  bewitching  little 
laugh.  Adolph  caught  himself  gazing  intently  at 
her  whenever  she  was  in  sight,  to  the  detriment  of 
the  easy  self-possession  which  was  his  secret  pride. 
He  had  never  before  been  especially  interested  in  a 
woman.  But  now,  but  now  —  well,  this  was  the 
second  surprise  in  his  series.  The  third  came  from 
Mr.  Strain. 

After  dinner,  Mrs.  Strain  and  Constance  left  the 
gentlemen  to  their  coffee  and  cigars,  and  Strain 
flatly  made  Adolph  an  offer  of  a  partnership.  "  We 


THE  THREE   CHILDREN  87 

are  lawyers,"  he  said,  "  and  needn't  beat  about  the 
bush.  You  are  the  ablest  assistant  I  have  ever  had 
in  my  office.  I  have  confidence  in  your  future,  and 
the  time  to  help  you  is  now.  Now,  on  my  part,  I 
have  political  ambitions.  I  need  a  keen,  trustworthy, 
able  young  fellow  who  will  devote  himself  abso 
lutely  to  my  interests,  with  the  feeling  that  he  is 
thereby  advancing  his  own.  Your  father  can  aid 
me  —  he  controls  a  large  district.  What  do  you 
say?" 

"  I  say,"  answered  Adolph,  "  that  it  suits  me 
perfectly.  Of  course,  what  you  want  is  the  office  of 
District  Attorney  and  to-morrow  I  shall  begin  to 
hustle  for  you." 

They  shook  hands.  "  I'll  have  the  papers  drawn 
at  once,"  said  Strain.  "  Now,  shall  we  join  the 
ladies  ? "  And  Adolph  eagerly  followed,  lured 
by  the  unconscious  magic  of  Constance's  bright 
eyes. 

While  Adolph  was  thus  becoming  engrossed  in 
love,  politics  and  business,  Edith,  too,  had  her 
experiences.  She  went  to  her  boarding-school,  was 
happy  there  for  a  month,  was  restless  the  next 
month,  and,  after  a  number  of  escapades,  was  disci 
plined.  The  following  week,  she  packed  her  clothing 
into  a  satchel,  dropped  out  of  a  window  by  means 
of  two  knotted  sheets,  and  appeared,  next  morning, 
at  her  uncle's  house.  She  refused  to  return  to 


88        THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

school,  and  thereby  forestalled  the  principal's  refusal 
to  receive  her  again  among  the  lambs  of  her  fold. 

"  I  regret  to  say,"  this  functionary  wrote,  "  that 
Miss  Breen's  example  has  left  a  deleterious  effect 
upon  a  number  of  the  other  girls.  She  is  so  im 
patient  of  all  restraint  that  I  must,  in  justice  to 
myself  and  to  those  for  whose  welfare  I  am  respon 
sible,  decline  further  charge  of  her.  I  must  not 
forget  to  say,  however,  that  she  is  not  at  all  vicious, 
only  she  needs  balance." 

Edith  was  highly  amused  by  this  pedantic  sum 
mary  of  her  character,  and  treated  the  whole  matter 
as  an  excellent  joke.  But  Mr.  Breen  was  pained  by 
her  levity.  He  insisted  that  she  must  qualify  herself 
to  receive  the  large  property  left  by  her  father,  and 
secured  a  strict  governess  to  give  her  lessons  at 
home. 

Edith  bore  with  the  governess  for  a  week,  and 
then  disappeared,  leaving  a  note  saying  she  was 
going  back  "  toward  the  setting  sun."  Mr.  Breen 
at  once  sent  out  an  alarm,  found  her  in  Carteret, 
and,  after  an  interview  that  really  frightened  the 
girl,  brought  her  back  home.  There  she  remained, 
but  with  evident  discontent.  Her  nature  was  essen 
tially  nomadic  and  untamed,  and  only  fretted  for 
the  opportunity  to  follow  its  instincts. 

As  for  Paul,  during  this  period  he  showed  little 
visible  progress.  He  shut  himself  into  his  attic 


THE  THREE   CHILDREN  89 

room  regularly  every  day,  and  there  remained 
except  for  the  brief  intervals  of  meal-times.  He  sat 
up  late  at  night,  and  seemed  to  grow  moody  and 
irritable  as  the  months  went  by.  At  last  even  Mrs. 
Breen  became  alarmed  about  him,  and  insisted  that 
he  must  go  about  somewhat.  Paul  laughed,  but 
offered  no  resistance  arid  no  suggestions. 

Chance,  however,  did  for  him  what  he  would  not 
do  for  himself.  One  day,  an  errand  sent  him  for 
the  first  time  to  the  law-offices  of  Strain  and  Breen, 
and,  while  he  was  talking  with  his  cousin,  the  senior 
partner  came  lurching  through  from  the  library, 
his  arms  filled  with  books.  He  caught  sight  of 
Paul's  face,  and  stopped  abruptly.  "  Who's  your 
friend,  Adolph  ?  "  he  asked.  And  Adolph,  with  an 
outer  grace  that  veiled  an  inner  discomposure,  pre 
sented  Paul. 

"  You  look  like  a  fellow  who  ought  to  be  culti 
vated,"  said  the  great  lawyer.  "  Come  up  to  the 
house  and  see  me."  And  on  he  lurched  with  his 
books  to  his  work. 

Thus  it  came  about  that  Paul  Breen  met  Con 
stance  Sanderson.  The  two  at  once  showed  an 
attraction  which  irritated  Mrs.  Strain  and  troubled 
Adolph.  Though  neither  was  talkative,  they  seemed 
to  have  an  abundance  to  say  to  each  other  whenever 
they  were  left  undisturbed.  Paul  availed  himself 
of  every  opportunity  of  coming  to  the  house,  though 


90        THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

he  received  but  scant  welcome  from  its  mistress.  In 
fact,  Abigail  Alice  at  once  took  an  aversion  to  him, 
vague,  irrational,  but  instinctive.  In  her  hot  par- 
tizanship  she  drew  many  a  contrast  in  Adolph's 
favor  between  the  two  young  men  for  Constance's 
benefit.  Constance  listened,  but  usually  made  no 
reply  except  by  that  provoking  laugh  of  hers. 

"What  can  you  see  in  that  Paul  Breen?"  Mrs. 
Strain  would  demand. 

"  A  purpose  in  life,"  Constance  once  replied. 


CHAPTER    VII 

THE    WORK    OF    AN    INVENTOR 

ADOLPH'S  absorption  in  love,  politics  and  business 
took  him  much  from  home,  and  he  soon  almost 
ceased  to  be  an  element  in  the  daily  life  of  the 
Breen  mansion.  Paul,  though  present  in  body,  was 
hardly  less  absent  in  spirit.  He  appeared  at  meals, 
but  was  usually  silent,  and  wrapped  in  his  own 
thoughts.  Mrs.  Breen  gave  her  whole  soul  to  the 
housekeeping  required  by  the  large  establishment 
over  which  she  presided.  Mr.  Breen  found  his 
daily  life  in  his  contractor-work.  So  there  was 
some  justice  in  Edith's  complaint  that  she  might  as 
well  live  in  a  pyramid,  surrounded  by  Egyptian 
mummies. 

Her  aunt  tried  to  interest  her  in  the  conducting 
of  the  house,  but  was  forced  to  desist  when  the 
girl's  impatient  bungling  had  cost  her  two  of  her 
most  faithful  servants,  who  declared  that  "  little 
Miss  Edith  would  upset  a  saint,  that  she  would ; 
never  knowing  what  she  was  after  for  t\vo  days 
together." 

91 


92        THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

At  length,  finding  no  interest  in  her  home  or  its 
inhabitants,  Edith,  in  despair,  took  to  voracious 
novel-reading,  in  which  she  was  as  capricious  as  in 
all  else  she  did.  There  was  in  the  house  a  fairly 
good  library  of  standard  fiction,  and  she  was  too 
alert  and  intelligent  to  care  much  for  trash.  She 
began  almost  at  random,  but  soon  came  to  know 
her  favorites  by  a  process  of  rigid  elimination. 
From  the  set  of  Dickens  she  chose  "  Pickwick 
Papers,"  found  it  mildly  amusing  until  she  reached 
the  lugged-in  stories,  and  then  replaced  it  on  the 
shelves.  "  A  Tale  of  Two  Cities  "  perplexed  her 
with  its  abrupt  changes  of  scene,  and  was  never 
finished.  She  tried  Thackeray's  "  Henry  Esmond," 
only  to  find  the  dignity  of  the  hero  wearisome,  and 
then,  through  an  innocent  sympathy  with  Becky 
Sharp,  managed  to  read  "  Vanity  Fair  "  through 
out.  George  Eliot  and  Anthony  Trollope  were 
speedily  condemned  as  "  poky ;  "  but  Wilkie  Collins 
proved  a  delight,  and  Charles  Reade  was  devoured 
at  all  hours  of  the  day  and  night. 

"  The  Wandering  Heir  "  gave  Edith  an  idea.  She 
still  longed  to  see  the  world,  but  had  found  it 
impossible  to  elude  pursuit  when  she  fled  from 
home.  Why  should  she  not  dress  as  a  boy,  and 
thus  at  one  stroke  facilitate  her  travels  and  render 
detection  difficult  ?  She  began  to  seek  for  books  in 
which  such  enterprises  had  been  successful,  and 


THE  WORK  OF  AN   INVENTOR      93 

soon  came  upon  Stevenson's  "  Black  Arrow  "  and 
"  A  Girl  in  the  Karpathians,"  each  of  which  made 
the  plan  both  alluring  and  rational. 

The  more  she  brooded,  the  more  fascinated  she 
became  with  the  project.  The  desire  to  escape  from 
the  dull  household  was  nearly  irresistible,  and  she 
did  not  mean  to  be  brought  back  again.  Adolph  had 
made  much  fun  of  her  former,  futile  flight;  and 
Paul  —  wonder  of  wonders  —  had  shown  enough 
interest  in  it  to  rebuke  her  most  solemnly,  dwelling 
not  more,  on  her  ingratitude  and  thoughtlessness 
than  on  the  grave  dangers  to  herself  in  going  out 
into  the  world  alone.  The  keynote  of  her  character 
was  curiosity.  She  longed  to  see  sights  and  people, 
to  fathom  secrets  and  to  provoke  remark.  Not 
naturally  sly  or  secretive,  she  yet  went  about  her 
preparations  for  flight  with  the  utmost  caution, 
though  with  a  light-hearted  contempt  for  conse 
quences  as  innocent  as  it  was  pitiful. 

Much  to  Mrs.  Breen's  surprise,  Edith  suddenly 
began  to  go  to  Sunday  School,  and  kept  up  her 
attendance  regularly,  despite  all  Adolph's  sarcastic 
comments  and  Paul's  amused  skepticism.  When 
the  novelty  of  this  course  had  somewhat  worn  off, 
she  joined  a  Dorcas  society,  and  became  active  in 
providing  clothing  for  the  poor  children  of  the 
neighborhood.  By  a  little  management  she  was 
appointed  upon  a  committee  to  buy  clothing,  and 


94        THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

then  she  would  consult  Paul,  as  the  most  taciturn 
instrument  available,  and  even  entrust  commissions 
to  him  whenever  it  was  necessary  to  get  boys'  gar 
ments.  Once  this  custom  was  established,  it  was 
easy  for  her  to  add  now  and  then  an  article  of 
clothing  to  a  list  given  him,  and  thus  before  long 
she  gradually  got  together  a  complete  outfit  for 
herself.  She  found  in  the  attic  an  old  dress-suit 
case,  and  in  this  packed  away,  one  by  one,  the  things 
so  obtained,  each  of  which  she  tried  on  and  fitted. 

All  this  occupied  her  mind  and  made  her  seem 
so  contented  that  gradually  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Breen 
relaxed  their  vigilance  and  concluded  that  she  had 
outgrown  her  vagrant  desires.  But  it  led  to  a 
complication.  Edith's  visits  to  the  attic  became 
more  and  more  frequent,  and  were  of  course  rather 
stealthy  in  appearance.  No  one  in  the  household 
noticed  this  except  Paul.  He  was  busy  in  his 
laboratory-room,  and,  intent  though  he  was  on  his 
experiments,  yet  remained  acutely  sensitive  to 
external  impressions.  Now  and  then  he  heard 
Edith  moving  about  in  her  visits  to  the  upper  floor, 
and,  aware  of  her  curiosity,  could  think  of  but  one 
motive  for  them.  Once  he  went  softly  to  the  door, 
suddenly  threw  it  open,  and  found  her  within  a  few 
feet  of  him.  Her  shoes  were  off,  and  she  was 
greatly  startled.  He  lost  his  temper  instantly. 

"  Edith,"  he  said  angrily,   "  this  is   unbearable. 


THE  WORK  OF  AN   INVENTOR      95 

You  are  no  longer  a  mere  child,  and  I  will  not 
submit  to  such  treatment.  Don't  you  dare  to  spy 
upon  me.  What  I  am  doing  doesn't  concern  you 
in  the  least.  And  you  little  know  the  danger  you 
run  by  putting  yourself  in  my  way.  I  won't  answer 
for  your  life  —  " 

At  this  moment,  Mrs.  Breen's  voice  was  heard 
at  the  foot  of  the  stairs.  She  asked  in  a  frightened 
tone  :  —  "  Paul,  what  are  you  saying?  " 

But  he  slammed  the  door  and  made  no  reply. 

Edith  hastily  slipped  on  her  shoes,  which  she  had 
left  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  and  ran  down  to  meet 
her  aunt. 

"What  is  it,  Edith?"  Mrs.  Breen  asked.  "I 
heard  Paul  threaten  you." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Edith.  "  I  think  he  must 
be  crazy.  I  went  up  to  get  a  piece  of  silk  I  needed 
to  trim  a  hat,  and  he  broke  out  upon  me  in  the 
most  frightful  rage.  I  think  he  must  hate  the  very 
sight  of  me."  Here  she  began  to  cry.  "  I  wish  I 
was  away  from  all  of  you!  There's  no  place  for 
me  here,  and  nobody  wants  me  about.  I  believe 
Paul  is  bitter  because  father  left  me  all  that  money. 
I  wish  he  had  been  the  daughter  and  I  the  son. 
The  Lord  wasted  a  good  life  when  he  gave  it  to 
Paul." 

Mrs.  Breen  was  shocked  and  sent  Edith  to  her 
room,  resolving  to  speak  to  Paul  about  his  violence. 


96        THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

But  at  her  first  word,  Paul  broke  out  in  his  own 
defence. 

"  I  have  had  all  I  can  stand  from  her,"  he 
declared.  "  I  can't  have  her  in  my  way.  She  inter 
feres  with  my  whole  future.  The  rest  of  the  family 
have  some  sympathy  with  my  work  and  my  life, 
but  she  is  an  obstacle,  and  she  always  has  been. 
She  is  provided  for,  the  Lord  knows ;  why  can't  she 
let  me  alone?  Let  her  keep  her  distance,  if  she 
knows  what  is  good  for  her.  I  can't  be  responsible 
for  anything  that  may  happen  if  she  insists  on 
prowling  about  my  attic  room.  I  have  given  her 
warning  enough.  For  her  own  good,  let  her  be 
careful." 

Mrs.  Breen  was  amazed  at  this  tirade.  It  was 
rare  for  Paul  to  lose  control  of  himself,  and  his 
words  left  a  deep  impression  on  her  mind.  "  Be 
calm,"  she  entreated,  "  you  don't  mean  what  you 
say,  I'm  sure." 

"  Calm,"  Paul  repeated,  "  how  can  I  be  calm, 
when  a  few  days  may  determine  all  I  care  for  in 
life?  Do  yon  think  that  I  will  let  a  little  chit  like 
that  stand  in  my  way?  I  do  mean  all  I  say,  and 
more,  far  more." 

Paul  saw  how  seriously  his  words  were  taken,  but 
he  did  not  care.  He  was  overstrained,  and  had  lost 
much  sleep.  When  first  he  had  entered  upon  his 
present  work,  the  thought  of  his  father's  will  had 


THE   WORK  OF  AN   INVENTOR      97 

inspired  him ;  not  with  a  greedy  desire  to  win  fame 
for  the  fortune  dependent  upon  it ;  that,  as  his  uncle 
Philip  had  said,  seemed  too  remote  to  his  years  to 
be  considered;  but,  rather,  with  a  noble  ambition 
to  show  to  the  world  that  his  father's  estimate  of 
him  had  been  true,  and  that  the  discrimination  of  his 
will  was  really  the  result  of  love  and  pride. 

But,  since  he  had  met  Constance  Sanderson,  this 
object,  cherished  still,  was  no  longer  the  moving 
cause  of  his  industry.  He  loved;  and  he  believed 
he  was  beloved.  But  how  could  he  plead  his  suit 
with  empty  hands?  How  dared  he  ask  this  young 
girl,  who  already  had  known  the  hardships  of 
poverty,  to  accept  a  fate  that  might  make  those 
hardships  permanent?  No,  no;  he  must  first  suc 
ceed;  and  success  now  meant  not  fame  with  a 
fortune  in  the  far  future,  but  fortune,  first  and  at 
once,  whether  or  no  fame  might  be  contingent 
upon  it. 

During  his  studies  at  the  medical  school,  Paul  had 
been  deeply  impressed  with  the  writings  of  a  young 
doctor,  of  whom  he  knew  nothing  except  the  name 
on  the  title-page  of  his  text-books  —  James  Tan- 
credi.  One  paragraph  in  particular  had  taken  root 
in  his  mind,  and  borne  fruit.  It  was  as  follows : 

"  Life  cannot  exist  without  heat  and  moisture. 
Complete  desiccation,  the  lack  of  heat-vibrations, 
spells  death.  All  forms  of  morbific  life  require 


98        THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

certain  environments.  To  cure  disease,  then,  we 
have  but  to  change  the  environment  beyond  the 
life-limitations  of  the  morbific  agency.  Matter  is 
rate  of  vibration.  Cannot  the  physician  of  the 
future  attack  diseases  by  vibratory  modification? 
Heat,  light,  electricity  —  these  are  vibratory  de 
grees,  and  in  these  the  medicine  of  the  future  will 
find  the  ideal  panacea." 

Paul  Breen,  impressed  by  these  words,  resolved 
to  begin  a  series  of  experiments  designed  to  deter 
mine  the  life-limits  of  certain  specific  germs,  and  to 
test  the  effect  of  these  three  agencies  upon  certain 
germ-cultures.  He  had  not  chosen  to  make  known 
his  experiments.  He  felt  convinced  that  he  should 
meet  only  ridicule  by  a  premature  disclosure  of  his 
dreams.  Medicine,  to  his  uncle,  meant  a  jogging 
about  from  door  to  door  with  pills,  potions,  steel 
instruments  and  a  subsequent  bill;  to  his  aunt,  the 
word  "  Doctor "  stood  for  a  kindly  and  patient 
gentleman,  hired  to  hearken  to  symptoms  all  the 
rest  of  the  world  considered  a  bore ;  to  Adolph  and 
to  Edith,  he  would  be  babbling  an  unknown  tongue, 
with  jests  and  gibes  as  a  reward  for  his  pains.  So 
he  had  kept  his  counsel  except  to  Constance  San 
derson.  To  her,  led  by  a  few  enthusiastic  words 
about  the  glories  and  responsibilities  of  his  pro 
fession,  he  had  talked  of  his  purpose  in  life;  at  first 
of  the  fame  that  might  come  to  him  were  his  labors 


THE  WORK  OF  AN   INVENTOR      99 

successful,  and  latterly  of  the  independence  and 
freedom  that  such  success  would  bring.  But,  even 
with  her,  he  had  kept  carefully  to  generalities,  fear 
ful  lest  in  being  misunderstood  he  might  weaken  her 
faith  in  him. 

And  his  many  months  of  intelligent  experiment 
were  bearing  fruit.  Gradually  he  had  installed  in 
his  attic  laboratory  many  pieces  of  powerful  and 
delicate  apparatus.  He  used  an  electric  current  of 
high  tension  or  of  high  amperage  at  will.  He  had 
many  vacuum  tubes  of  differing  natures.  He  had 
physical  contrivances  for  producing  mechanical 
vibrations.  He  used  many  chemical  substances  both 
rare  and  costly,  and  he  handled  all  these  powerful 
agencies  with  a  recklessness  that  amazed  himself. 
His  first  prohibitions  against  the  family  had  been 
dictated  only  by  the  wish  for  seclusion;  but  now  he 
found  another  and  more  serious  motive  in  his  desire 
for  their  safety.  There  were  accidents  now  and 
again.  There  were  dangerous  gases  evolved,  and 
even  explosions  —  slight,  it  is  true,  but  eloquent  of 
possibilities  against  which  he  felt  he  must  guard  all 
except  himself. 

But,  step  by  step,  he  had  gained  ground.  Despite 
blind  paths  leading  nowhere,  and  painfully  retracted 
steps,  he  yet  accomplished  enough  to  encourage  him 
to  believe  that  he  was  on  the  road  to  some  brilliant 
results  in  curative  and  preventive  medicine.  He 


100      THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

resolved  to  proceed  with  the  work  at  all  hazards, 
feeling  that  the  importance  of  the  issues  justified 
any  sacrifice. 

Long  ago  he  had  used  the  money  his  uncle  had 
given  him,  and  he  had  asked  for  and  received  a 
similar  amount,  the  larger  part  of  which  he  deter 
mined  to  devote  to  the  construction  of  an  apparatus 
that  would  demonstrate  the  value  and  certainty  of 
his  researches.  It  was  when  he  had  just  completed 
the  putting  together  of  this  new  machine  that  he 
had  been  interrupted  by  Edith's  visit,  and  his 
warning  to  her  was,  he  believed,  warranted  by  the 
peril  to  herself. 

A  few  days  later,  he  decided  to  make  a  final  test, 
and  then,  if  that  was  successful,  to  ship  the  apparatus 
to  Carteret,  where  he  hoped  to  exhibit  it  to  the  one 
man  capable  of  judging  of  its  value  —  to  James 
Tancredi,  the  author  of  the  brilliant  treatise  he  had 
so  long  studied.  Again  and  again  he  made  the 
calculations  and  experiments,  submitting  himself  to 
the  operation  of  the  machine,  and  recording  the 
results  for  his  own  guidance.  He  believed  that  he 
could  control  the  operations  of  the  human  organism 
by  means  of  agencies  thus  brought  to  bear,  and  had 
even  subjected  his  own  skin  to  certain  disease-germs 
so  that  he  might  demonstrate  their  cure. 

At  length,  satisfied  with  his  test,  he  took  the 
machine  apart  and  prepared  to  pack  it  for  trans- 


THE  WORK  OF  AN   INVENTOR    101 

portation.  Going  into  one  of  the  attic  lofts,  he 
selected  an  old  trunk  he  had  used  during  his  college 
days,  and,  though  it  was  well-battered  and  a  little 
large  for  his  purpose,  he  took  it  to  the  laboratory, 
put  in  the  apparatus,  and  filled  the  whole  with  old 
newspapers  until  he  thought  the  brittle  parts  were 
safe. 

It  was  night  when  he  finished,  and  he  decided  he 
would  send  the  trunk  to  the  city  some  time  the  next 
day.  But  he  had  over-tired  his  brain,  and  found  it 
hard  to  sleep.  He  caught  himself  mentally  going 
over  and  over  every  step  in  the  process,  until  it  was 
apparent  that  so  long  as  it  was  possible  for  him  to 
modify  the  apparatus  he  would  never  feel  at  rest. 
Therefore,  for  his  own  sake,  it  would  be  well  to  ship 
it  as  early  in  the  morning  as  he  could  wake. 

Then  he  fell  asleep,  and  slept  quietly  till  sunrise. 
He  had  left  the  curtains  of  his  room  drawn  up,  and 
woke  as  soon  as  the  daylight  came.  Remembering 
his  resolution  of  the  night  before,  Paul  dressed  at 
once,  carried  the  trunk  downstairs,  put  it  into  a  light 
carriage,  and  took  it  down  to  the  station.  He  had 
to  wait  for  the  office  to  open,  and  was  shaking  with 
the  cold  of  the  sharp  morning  air  when  the  agent 
came.  Then  he  shipped  the  trunk  to  himself  at  the 
Central  Station  in  Carteret,  and  returned  home, 
relieved  that  the  apparatus  .was  at  last  beyond  his 
reach. 


102       THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

But  there  was  still  more  than  an  hour  before 
breakfast,  and,  as  Paul  entered  the  house,  there 
occurred  to  him  a  slight  modification  of  one  part 
of  the  machine.  He  had  in  the  attic  the  first  and 
cruder  apparatus  he  had  made,  and,  though  he 
laughed  at  his  own  weakness,  he  stole  softly  up  the 
stairs  and  into  his  laboratory.  He  adjusted  the 
apparatus,  turned  on  the  electric  current,  and  set  it 
in  motion;  and  then  began  to  prepare  a  chemical 
combination  used  in  the  test. 

Adolph  Breen  had  spent  a  more  restless  night 
than  his  cousin  Paul.  He  had  stopped  at  John 
Strain's  house  on  his  way  home,  and  Constance  had 
made  a  palpable  excuse  for  not  seeing  him.  More 
than  this,  Abigail  Alice,  perceiving  his  chagrin,  had 
told  him  plainly  that  in  her  judgment  his  suit  was 
hopeless  unless  he  managed  to  put  Paul  out  of  the 
running.  She  had  ridiculed  his  somewhat  stilted 
expressions  of  affection  for  the  girl,  but,  at  the 
same  time,  had  assured  him  that  if  such  was  his 
choice,  questionable  as  was  his  taste,  she  was  pre 
pared  by  reason  of  the  offensive  and  defensive  alli 
ance  existing  between  them  to  give  him  all  possible 
aid.  Therefore,  he  would  be  wise  to  put  on  his 
thinking-cap,  remembering  that  all  things  were  fair 
in  love  as  in  war.  And  Adolph  had  gone  home  to  a 
sleepless  bed,  tormented  by  jealousy,  rent  by  passion, 
with  the  grim  determination  forming  within  him 


THE  WORK  OF  AN   INVENTOR    103 

that  in  some  way,  he  cared  not  how,  he  would  frus 
trate  Paul's  pretensions  and  have  Constance  for 
himself.  The  dawn  found  him  unrefreshed;  so, 
hastily  dressing,  he  hurried  out  of  the  house,  think 
ing  that  a  stroll  through  the  woodland  lining  the 
bank  of  the  river  might  cool  his  blood  and  coalesce 
his  excited  and  disjointed  thoughts. 

Edith  Breen,  having  completed  all  her  prepara 
tions  for  her  flight  from  home,  had  stolen  up  into 
the  attic  that  morning,  during  Paul's  absence, 
meaning  to  slip  out  of  the  house  before  the  family 
rose.  She  had  clipped  off  her  pretty  hair,  and  put 
on  the  boy's  clothes,  and  was  just  about  to  creep 
down-stairs  when  Paul  returned  from  his  visit  to 
the  station.  She  shrank  back  into  the  darkness  and 
remained  quiet  while  he  busied  himself  over  his 
apparatus.  But,  when  it  was  put  into  motion,  her 
curiosity  was  so  great  that  she  forgot  all  prudence, 
forgot  her  change  of  costume,  and  tip-toed  to  the 
door  of  the  laboratory  where  Paul  was  at  work. 

He  had,  for  the  first  time,  left  the  door  slightly 
ajar,  and  Edith,  all  breathless,  pushed  it  softly  open. 
Paul,  intent  over  the  machine,  did  not  turn.  She 
pushed  the  door  a  little  wider,  peering  eagerly;  it 
came  against  the  light  stand  upon  which  the  chem 
icals  were  standing,  and  the  little  table  tipped  and 
began  to  fall. 

Then  Paul,  hearing  the  tinkling  glass,  turned ;  he 


104      THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

saw  Edith's  head  thrust  through  the  doorway,  and 
had  just  cried  out  sharply  "  Edith,  — "  when  the  con 
tents  of  the  table  reached  the  floor;  there  was  a 
report  like  that  of  a  revolver;  the  chemicals  ex 
ploded,  and  Paul  fell  insensible  and  lay  as  if  dead. 
The  electric  and  chemical  apparatus,  struck  by  his 
falling  body,  slipped  from  the  bench,  and  covered 
the  floor  with  its  fragments. 


CHAPTER    VIII 

ED    FLYAWAY    AND    SOCl'TY    DAN 

EDITH  turned  cold  and  rigid  under  the  petrifying 
clutch  of  terror.  Paul  was  hurt,  and  she  was  to 
blame.  Paul  might  even  be  dead,  else  why  should 
he  lie  there  motionless,  unknowing,  the  ghastly  wax 
image  of  himself?  All  her  vague  notions  of  crime 
and  its  punishment  beset  her  with  threats.  Since 
she  had  done  wrong,  she  must  pay  the  penalty.  Oh, 
what  should  she  do ;  what  should  she  do  ? 

Her  strong,  vital  forces,  returning  triumphant, 
sent  their  answer  thrilling  through  her  veins.  Do? 
Why,  what  she  had  just  planned  to  do.  Run  away, 
of  course,  out  into  that  unknown,  fascinating  world 
of  wandering,  where  no  one  bothered,  no  one 
restricted,  no  one  said  No.  Was  she  not  already 
prepared  down  to  the  smallest  item  of  appropriate 
costume?  And  could  there  be  a  better  hour  than 
this  very  one  in  which  she  had  been  unobserved 
except  by  the  person  from  whom,  above  all,  she 
must  now  flee,  but  who  could  not  follow?  A  reck 
less  satisfaction  convinced  her  that,  whether  she 

105 


106      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL  BREEN 

would  or  no,  an  .end  of  hesitation  and  delay  had 
come.  As  if  by  force,  her  decision  was  final,  and 
she  must  go. 

Together  with  these  stronger  feelings,  developing 
into  resolution  beyond  her  years,  there  was  that 
childish  curiosity,  innate,  persistent.  She  was  alone, 
at  length,  in  the  forbidden  room.  This  was  her  last, 
her  only  chance.  What,  then,  should  she  stretch 
out  her  hand  and  take?  What  a  delight  it  would 
be  to  rummage  through  the  drawers  of  that  bench, 
to  take  down  every  mysterious  article  from  that 
shelf —  if  only,  oh,  if  only  that  awful,  still  presence 
wasn't  there  on  the  floor;  and  yet,  wasn't  it  better 
that  it  should  be  still,  since  her  will  was  so  impera 
tive? 

She  was  hot,  she  was  cold ;  anxious  to  stay,  eager 
to  go ;  at  one  moment  sure  that  Paul  was  dead,  and 
the  very  next  positive  that  his  eyes  were  open; 
pulled  forward  and  back  by  desire  and  fear;  the 
puppet  at  once  of  inexperience  and  experience.  She 
sidled  cautiously  around  the  room,  prying  into  every 
nook  and  crevice.  As  she  groped  among  the  frag 
ments  on  the  floor,  she  cut  her  finger  on  a  lot  of 
broken  glass,  and  some  blood  dripped  down  near 
Paul's  head  before  she  knew  it.  But  a  silver-bound 
note-book,  which  lay  on  the  bench,  kept  drawing 
her  on.  She  had  often  seen  Paul  make  strange 
figures  in  it;  she  had  often  begged  him  to  at  least 


BUT      A      SILVER  -  BOUND      NOTE  -  BOOK    .     .    .    KEPT      DRAWING 
HER   ON." 


ED   FLYAWAY  AND   SOCFTY   DAN  107 

let  her  look  at  it,  but  in  vain.  Now  was  her  chance, 
her  last,  her  only  chance.  She  thrust  the  book  into 
her  pocket,  crying  out  from  the  pain  of  her  cut 
finger  as  she  did  so;  and  then,  when  no  response  or 
notice  came  from  that  grim,  stiffened  form  before 
her,  she  sobbed : 

"  Oh,  he  must  be  dead,"  and  darted  from  the 
room  in  a  sudden  panic. 

A  moment  later,  the  picturesque  and  dapper  form 
of  a  lad  crept  down  the  stairs  from  the  attic,  close 
to  the  wall,  poising  now  and  again  on  tip-toe,  with 
finger  on  lips,  and  then  sped  through  the  rear-door 
into  the  seclusion  of  the  wooded  plantation,  winding 
over  the  river-bank.  The  slim,  flashing  feet  were 
indeed  light,  but  Edith's  heart,  fluttering  within 
such  strange  apparel,  was  lighter  still.  She  had 
escaped ;  no  one  had  seen  her,  no  one  had  heard  her. 
The  unknown,  fascinating  world  was  now  before 
her,  and  clearly,  oh,  so  clearly,  she  could  see  the 
broad  road  traversing  it,  over  which  she  should 
stroll  from  pleasure  to  pleasure,  and  from  wonder 
to  wonder.  The  fear  of  punishment,  the  loom  and 
threat  of  death,  were  forgotten.  Like  some  fair, 
young  denizen  of  the  woodland,  without  reflection, 
without  compunction,  she  tripped  blithely  along, 
until  a  slight  touch  on  her  shoulder  and  the  sound 
of  a  mocking  voice  brought  her  face  to  face  again 
with  terrifying  realities. 


108      THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

"What  is  all  this,  Edith?"  asked  Adolph,  as, 
cool,  calm  and  smiling,  he  tried  to  hold  the  shrink 
ing  girl  out  into  full  view.  "  Is  it  burlesque  or  melo 
drama?  You  favor  both,  I  think.  Why,  you  must 
be  going  to  be  Ed  Flyaway  in  dead  earnest !  " 

This  name  Adolph  had  given  her,  in  joke,  after 
one  of  her  escapades. 

A  burst  of  tears  accompanied  Edith  back  from 
fairyland,  and  she  clung  to  Adolph  in  ignominious 
helplessness.  "  Oh,  Adolph,  dear  Adolph,"  she 
sobbed,  "  you  won't  tell  on  me,  you  will  help  me, 
you  will  let  me  go?  "  And  she  blurted  out  all  that 
had  happened. 

Crises  in  life  have  a  way  of  arriving  unexpectedly 
like  some  inspecting  commander-in-chief,  but  their 
mandates  are  none  the  less  insistent  for  that. 
Adolph's  morning  stroll  had  restored  his  normal 
equanimity,  without  which  he  always  felt  himself 
to  be  in  a  sort  of  moral  undress;  but  it  had  not 
made  clear  to  him  how  he  was  to  win  Constance 
and  dispose  of  Paul.  Now,  with  Paul  dying  or  dead, 
Constance  seemed  more  attainable.  Fate  had  re 
moved  one  difficulty  in  his  way;  would  not  the 
disappearance  of  this  rash  child  remove  yet  another  ? 
There  was  the  vast  fortune  left  by  Neil  Breen,  that 
fortune  which  had  made  him  hate  his  cousins  for 
having  what  he  had  not.  If  Paul  were  dead,  and 
Edith  missing,  would  not  the  law,  in  five  short  years, 


ED   FLYAWAY  AND   SOCI'TY   DAN    109 

give  it  to  his  own  father,  —  already  an  old  man, 
whose  only  heir  he  was?  Constance  in  any  and  all 
circumstances  would  be  adorable,  it  was  true;  but 
Constance,  with  all  that  money  can  give  in  addition 

—  what  vistas  of  bliss,  and  delight,  of  gratified  am 
bitions,   of   pomp   and   station,   stretched   endlessly 
before  him.     Was  not  the  hazard  worth  the  throw; 
and  was  he  not  a  faint-hearted  weakling  to  refuse 
the  chance  that  fate  came  tendering?     Even  before 
he  realized  that  he  had  decided,  Adolph's  face  grew 
portentously  grave. 

"  Poor  child,"  he  said,  shaking  his  head,  "  you 
are  in  an  awful  fix,  to  be  sure.  No  one  will  believe 
it  was  an  accident ;  you  and  Paul  got  along  together 
too  badly  for  that.  I'll  keep  your  secret  safe,  never 
fear;  and  I  shouldn't  feel  justified  in  stopping  you 

—  why,  I  hate  to  think  of  what  might  happen  if  I 
did.     After  all,  liberty  is  the  thing.     Take  a  bright, 
handsome  lad,  such  as  you  appear,  with  the  stout 
heart  that  you  really  have;    why,  the  world  is  his 
cocoanut,  full  of  meat  and  drink  for  the  breaking. 
It  isn't  such  a  bad  thing  when  one  is  young  and  full 
of  life  to  see  what's  going  on.     There's  a  heap  of 
fun  and  excitement,  just  as  there's  plenty  of  sun 
shine;    and  pleasure  is  all  the  more  delightful  for 
coming  after  a  storm.     But  to  be  locked  up  in  a 
Reformatory,  kept  in  close,  gloomy  quarters,  behind 
iron  bars,  with  the  coarsest  food  and  clothing,  sew- 


112      THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

have  you?"  she  faltered,  "you  won't  stop  me 
from  hiding  in  there,  will  you  ?  I'll  do  no  harm." 

The  man  took  a  cigar-stump  from  his  pocket,  and 
crumpled  it  into  his  pipe.  With  a  jack-knife  he 
deftly  split  the  match,  carried  over  his  ear,  into  eight 
parts  lengthwise.  One  of  these  he  kindled  by  a  dex 
terous  twist  between  two  finger-nails,  and  ignited 
the  tobacco  with  it.  The  others  he  folded  away  in  the 
layers  of  a  red  handkerchief.  Then,  after  a  luxuri 
ous  puff,  he  answered. 

"  C'nnected  with  the  road  ?  Nope,  unly  as  a 
sorter  soopernum'ry  sarvin'  without  pay.  Stop  yer? 
Not  on  yer  life.  I'll  put  yer  nex'  to  the  inside,  all 
right,  young  feller,  seein'  thet's  your  game,  thet 
is  — "  and  here  the  bluff  tones  changed  into  the 
whine  of  the  professional  cadger,  "  thet  is,  if  you 
fulfils  the  Scriptur'  and  gives  a  trifle  from  your 
plinty  to  my  nawthin'." 

"  What  is  your  name,  please?  "  asked  Edith,  like 
a  true  woman,  hoping  for  better  things  through 
talk. 

"  Soci'ty  Dan  they  mostly  calls  me." 

"Soci'ty?    Why  Soci'ty?" 

"  Oh,  becuz  I'm  so  free  and  easy  and  permiscus, 
I  s'pose;  and  what's  on  your  wisitin'  card?" 

"  Oh,  I'm  Ed  Flyaway,"  replied  Edith,  giving  the 
nickname  Adolph  had  just  brought  to  her  mind, 
"  but  what's  in  a  name  anyway  ?  " 


ED   FLYAWAY  AND   SOCFTY  DAN    113 

"  There's  a  good  deal  in  it,  my  bucky,  if  you're 
up  aginst  a  sicond  offinse.  But  come,  cough  up  the 
gelt,  the  mazooma,  the  long  greens,  if  you  wants 
an  exclusive  burt'  on  this  air-line." 

"  I  have  nothing  but  this,"  said  the  girl  with 
brimming  eyes.  "  I  left  very  unexpectedly  —  oh, 
dear,  you  must  know,  I  ran  away.  Won't  you  take 
it  and  help  me?  " 

"  A  note-book  filled  with  high-old-glyphics," 
mused  Soci'ty  Dan.  "  It  ain't  much,  as  the  drownin' 
man  said  when  he  grabbed  the  straw ;  but,  arter  all, 
it's  got  silver  corners  and  will  do  for  a  go  of  booze 
at  all  ewents.  It's  allus  the  way :  thim  thet  has 
nawthin'  will  give  up  iverythin',  and  thim  thet  has 
iverythin'  will  give  up  nawthin'.  Why,  I  struck  a 
withered  old  pelican,  the  mawn,  and  I  ast  her  most 
obsecus,  so  I  did,  for  a  bit  of  help.  '  Give  you 
somethin'/  says  she,  '  Yes,  so  I  will  and  gladly. 
I'll  give  you  over  to  the  fust  perleece  in  sight.'  I 
seen  right  enough  she  wud ;  so  I  chucked  a  brick 
t'roo  her  plate-glass  door  with  me  compliments,  and 
skedoozled.  Strain  is  her  name,  they  say,  and  strain 
her  natur' ;  and  she'd  swaller  a  full-sized  camel  with 
j'y,  afore  she  let  go  of  a  stunted  gnat. 

"  As  for  the  book,  my  lob-lolly  lad,  I'll  take  it 
and  wilcome,"  continued  Soci'ty,  as  he  thrust  it  in 
side  of  his  jumper;  "but  mark  me  wud,  you're 
makin'  a  big  mistake,  in  the  inciptun  of  your  career, 


114      THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

as  a  blind  un  cud  see,  to  be  leavin'  a  luxurus  home 
without  bein'  properly  loaded.  To  run  away  with 
the  stuff  aboard  is  good;  to  run  towards  it  ain't 
bad;  but  to  run  from  it,  why,  thet's  sooicide;  yes, 
an'  since  we're  speakin'  of  runnin',  race  sooicide,  I 
might  say." 

Having  thus  given  vent  to  his  considerate  judg 
ment,  Soci'ty  proved  as  good  as  his  word.  He 
fetched  out  an  iron  bit  from  the  resourceful  depths 
of  his  jumper,  and,  in  an  instant,  had  pried  off  the 
staple  holding  the  padlock.  "  A  handy  t'ing  to 
hev'  in  the  fam'bly  —  some  odder  wan's  fam'bly," 
he  reflected,  as  he  helped  Edith  up  and  drew  the 
door  behind  them ;  "  but  its  absince  is  desirable 
whin  they  are  a-wukkin'  of  the  third  degree  on  you 
at  Hidquarters." 

The  interior  of  the  car  was  pretty  well  filled  with 
miscellaneous  freight,  but,  off  in  one  corner,  where 
an  old  trunk  had  been  placed,  there  was  a  little  space 
in  which  a  lad  of  Edith's  size  might  curl  up  and  lie 
concealed.  No  sooner  had  Soci'ty  selected  the  spot 
as  the  one  best  adapted  for  conditions  he  so  well 
understood,  than  the  girl  cried  out  in  joyous  con 
currence,  "  Yes,  let  me  lie  there.  That  is  Paul's 
trunk,  and  I  won't  feel  so  lonesome." 

"  Thin  Paul  must  hev'  come  over  in  the  May 
flower  or  the  steerage,  belike,"  Soci'ty  remarked 
with  a  disdainful  glance  at  the  ancient  receptacle. 


ED   FLYAWAY  AND   SOCI'TY  DAN    115 

Edith  was  so  exhausted  by  the  clash  of  sensations 
through  which  she  had  passed,  so  weary  of  seeking 
the  end  of  the  mesh  of  strange  events  in  which  she 
had  entangled  herself,  that,  with  the  supineness  of 
a  little  child,  whose  day  had  been  over-long,  she  lay 
down  against  the  trunk  and  straightway  went  to 
sleep.  There  was  something  in  this  innocent  and 
trustful  abandon  which  affected  Soci'ty  with  a  vague 
remembrance  of  that  remote  time  when  he,  too, 
may  have  known  and  then  lacked  tender  care,  and 
he  stood  watching  wistfully,  like  one  at  a  door  for 
ever  closed. 

Presently  Edith  moved  in  order  to  lie  more  com 
fortably,  and  raised  her  hand  with  familiar  gesture 
as  if  to  brush  away  from  her  pillow  the  heavy  braids 
of  hair  which,  only  a  few  hours  before,  she  had  sac 
rificed  to  her  mad  plan.  Soci'ty's  trained  observa 
tion  instantly  interpreted  the  significance  of  this  un 
conscious  and  natural  impulse.  "  A  gurl,  a  young 
gurl,  bedad!"  he  whispered,  awestruck;  "well, 
Gawd  save  us  all,  for  the  divil  is  puttin'  in  double 
licks  these  degin'ret  days."  And,  sliding  to  the 
door,  and  driving  back  the  staple,  he  hurried  away 
on  hospitable  cares  intent. 

Alas  for  that  burning  thirst,  destined  to  remain 
unquenched  through  many  a  dreary  can  of  tepid 
water!  As  Soci'ty  was  leaving  the  pawnshop, 
having  pledged  the  silver-bound  note-book  for  a 


116      THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

sum  small  but  sufficient  to  his  needs,  he  noticed  a 
sealed  package  sticking  out  of  the  pocket  of  a  cus 
tomer  awaiting  his  turn  in  an  adjacent  booth.  As 
instinctively  as  Edith  had  sought  to  brush  back  her 
hair,  he  stretched  out  his  hand  and  snatched  the 
tempting  prize. 

Unfortunately,  the  owner's  wits  and  nerves  were 
keyed  up  to  that  pitch  of  expectancy  which  rules 
when  pressing  troubles  are  about  to  be  relieved.  He 
turned  like  a  flash  and  throttled  the  thief.  A  small 
boy  shot  over  the  counter,  giving  ready  assistance. 
The  burglar-alarm  rang ;  the  door  was  slammed  and 
bolted;  and  Soci'ty  lay  overcome  on  the  floor, 
pressed  down  by  a  half-ton  of  human  rage  until  the 
police  should  come  and  deliver  him  over  to  the  tor 
mentors. 

Such  a  little  thing  as  being  caught  in  the  act  did 
not  disconcert  a  man  of  Soci'ty's  experience.  He 
knew  very  well  what  he  wanted  to  do  before  it  was 
too  late.  Already  his  agile  hand  was  worming  its 
way  to  accomplish  it.  Under  ordinary  circumstances 
his  object  undoubtedly  would  have  been  to  cast  from 
his  person  the  incriminatory  iron  bit.  But  now  a 
more  unselfish  thought  inspired  him.  The  little 
girl,  so  wild,  so  passionately  wild,  to  run  away! 
Should  he  let  her  people,  her  pursuers,  gain  a  pos 
sible  clue  through  his  mischance?  There  was  no 
likelihood  of  the  pawnbroker  volunteering  any  in- 


ED   FLYAWAY  AND   SOCI'TY  DAN    117 

formation  relative  to  his  pledge,  but  should  the 
police,  when  they  searched  him,  find  the  ticket  — 

"  What  are  you  a-doin'  there  ?  "  demanded  one  of 
his  captors  fiercely. 

"  Unly  takin'  a  katchoo  to  make  me  prisince  more 
refined  and  agreeable  in  these  clus  quarters,"  gasped 
Soci'ty,  as  he  chewed  up  and  swallowed  the  pawn- 
ticket  for  the  silver-bound  note-book. 

A  policeman  came  bustling  in,  recognizing  the  cul 
prit  with  that  rough  affability  which  obta'ins  between 
officers  of  the  law  and  old  offenders. 

"  I  didn't  think  it  of  you,  Soci'ty,  really  I  didn't," 
he  said  reproachfully,  as  he  led  away  his  unresisting 
prisoner.  "  An  old  lag  like  you  caught  with  the 
goods  on  him;  it's  too  bad,  it's  too  bad.  Well,  a 
ten-specker  is  the  least  that's  coming  to  you,  and  it's 
coming  quick,  too.  The  Grand  Jury's  sitting;  the 
Oyer's  in  full  blast.  Say,  you'll  be  railroaded  at 
the  rate  of  the  special  limited  express." 

"  Railroaded,"  Soci'ty  repeated  with  a  resigned 
smile.  "  That's  all  right.  I'm  a  sorter  sooper- 
num'ry,  you  know,  sarvin'  without  pay." 

Meanwhile,  a  freight  train  was  puffing  along  the 
river  road,  like  some  stale  runner  making  more  noise 
than  speed.  In  the  cab,  the  engineer  and  fireman 
were  busy  over  some  defect  in  the  machinery,  com 
plaining  bitterly  the  while  that  they  had  been  sent 
out  with  an  old  and  imperfect  engine,  and  yet  were 


118      THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

expected  to  keep  a  dear  track  for  the  flyer,  following 
still  many  miles  behind.  Presently,  however,  the 
trouble,  whatever  it  was,  seemed  rectified,  and  under 
increasing  steam  the  miles  began  to  roll  regularly 
and  rapidly  away.  The  two  men  settled  back  in 
their  seats  on  either  side,  reassured  by  the  monoto 
nous  beat  of  "the  drivers  on  the  rails  that  the  to-day 
would  be  as  the  many  yesterdays  had  been.  So 
habit  lessens  fear,  giving  fixity  and  substance  to  that 
Hfe  which  is  but  the  vapor  that  appeareth. 

In  the  rear  car,  with  her  shorn  head  pillowed  on 
Paul's  old  trunk,  Edith  was  sleeping,  happy  in  im 
possible  dreams,  as.  unknowing  and  unknown,  she 
was  borne  along.  Poor,  wayward  child,  a  type  of 
poor,  wayward  humanity.  So,  too.  the  great  earth 
swings  through  .space,  hurrying  its  human  freight, 
unknowing  and  unknown,  to  that  awakening  from 
dreams  which  is  death. 

Again  the  engine  ran  sluggishly,  with  waste  of 
steam  from  the  cylinders,  hindering  and  befogging 
the  efforts  of  the  crew.  The  security  of  continued 
power  gave  way  to  wild  apprehension  as  the  driving- 
wheels  at  length  hung  set  and  stationary.  The  en 
gineer  sounded  the  whistle  piercingly.  The  fire- 
ran  back,  around  the  curve  just  passed,  with  red 


and  torpedoes.  The  hands,  lolling  half-asleep 
in  the  sunshine  on  the  tops  of  the  cars,  or  smoking 
and  yarning  on  the  benches  in  the  caboose,  sprang, 


ED   FLYAWAY  AND   SOCITY  DAN    119 

alert  and  startled,  to  the  ground,  well  aware  that 
any  derangement  in  the  carefully  adjusted  mecha 
nism  of  the  road  meant  disaster.  On  all  sides  there 
was  apprehension  —  the  selfish  impulse  of  personal 
safety  —  save  in  the  rear  car,  where  Edith  was  still 
sleeping  peacefully,  unknowing  and  unknown. 

It  is  wonderful  how  insidiously  a  greater  speed 
consumes  the  advantage  of  a  lesser  speed,  when  that 
lesser  speed  has  ceased.  The  following  flyer  made 
up  its  distance  behind  in  a  twinkling  of  mile-posts. 
Before  the  fireman  had  a  clear  view  of  the  track 
around  the  curve  irresistible  power  swept  by  him  as 
contemptuously  as  if  he  were  a  speck  of  the  dust 
that  its  onset  raised.  The  air  rent  and  rocked  with 
the  shock  of  impact  and  explosion,  and  where  the 
freight  train  had  halted  was  now  a  horrible  confu 
sion  of  wrecked  and  overturned  cars. 

But  the  rear  car,  the  rear  car !  The  one  car  con 
taining,  though  unknowing  and  unknown,  that 
human  interest,  intense  in  life,  intenser  in  death! 
Over  its  split  and  ground  fragments  a  light  flame 
already  swept,  completing  the  destruction! 

The  men  fought  the  fire  perfunctorily  for  a.  while, 
and  then  ceased  altogether.  What  difference  did  it 
make  about  a  lot  of  ruined  stuff  that  would  have  to 
be  paid  for  anyway,  since  luckily  there  were  no 
lives  in  peril?  And  so  they  watched  idly,  until 
smouldering  succeeded  the  burst  and  roar  of  con- 


120      THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

flagration  like  the  low,  contented  growl  of  a  satiated 
beast.  Then  pole  and  pick  were  plied  lustily  to  clear 
the  way  for  traffic. 

As  the  men  hauled  out  and  raked  over  the  under 
most  part,  less  thoroughly  incinerated,  there  was  a 
wild  tossing  of  stalwart  hands,  a  ghastly  whitening 
of  begrimed  faces,  a  murmur  of  horror,  inarticulate, 
incoherent,  frenzied;  for  a  childish  form  was  ex 
posed,  naked,  black,  distorted,  half-consumed,  lying 
in  the  very  midst  of  a  skeleton  of  a  trunk's  frame 
work,  to  which  the  ash  of  a  label  still  clung! 

"  My  God,  my  God,"  cried  one  of  the  men  at 
length,  voicing  the  universal  conviction,  "  the  body 
of  a  murdered  girl  was  boxed  up  in  that  trunk  and 
shipped  as  freight!  " 


CHAPTER    IX 
THE  CORONER'S  VERDICT 

MRS.  BREEN  had  kept  house  long  enough  to  be 
aware  that  there  were  certain  impossibilities  in 
household  economy.  When  younger,  she  had  soon 
seen  that  a  late  breakfast  was  the  ruin  of  the  day's 
work,  and  had  done  her  best  by  means  of  "  rising 
bells,"  special  notifications,  alarm-clocks  and  so  on, 
to  bring  all  the  family  together  in  good  season  for 
the  morning  meal. 

But  this  ideal  had  been  long  abandoned,  and  she 
now  enforced  penalties  instead.  "  Any  one  who 
wants  a  warm  breakfast  must  get  up  while  it  is  on 
the  table "  was  her  inflexible  rule,  and  that  had 
worked  to  the  discomfort  of  Paul  and  of  Edith,  both 
of  whom  were  night-owls.  Paul,  lost  in  his  scien 
tific  studies  or  experiments,  was  only  too  likely  to 
forget  fatigue  and  remain  in  the  laboratory  until  the 
small  hours;  and  Edith  had  never  considered  rules 
as  other  than  challenges  to  combat,  and,  when  she 
had  taken  to  fiction,  she  found  night  the  best  time 

121 


for  escaping  the  interruptions  of  prosaic  real 
life. 

Consequently,  on  the  morning  of  the  accident  in 
Paul's  laboratory,  the  absence  of  these  two  from  the 
breakfast-table  had  caused  no  surprise ;  that  was  the 
usual  order,  and  gave  rise  to  only  the  usual  annoy 
ance.  •  But  Adolph's  absence  was  a  different  matter, 
since  he  was  regularity  and  punctuality  in  one,  and 
Mrs.  Breen  was  about  to  make  inquiries  when  the 
servant  anticipated  them  by  explaining  "  Mr. 
Adolph  had  gone  to  the  city  by  an  early  train,  and 
had  asked  that  you  be  told  he  was  very  sorry,  Mum. 
He  had  left  some  valooable  papers  out  of  the  safe, 
by  mistake,  and  must  put  them  away  before  anny 
clerks  kem  in.  He  said  he  would  get  breakfast  in 
the  city,  so  he  wud." 

So,  after  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Breen  had  breakfasted 
alone,  Mr.  Breen  left  for  the  station,  and  Mrs. 
Breen  sat  down  "  just  to  run  over  the  headings  of 
the  newspaper  "  —  which  often  took  her  more  than 
an  hour's  avid  reading. 

Paul  lay  for  nearly  three  hours  unconscious. 
Then  he  awoke  as  one  wakes  from  deep  sleep,  re 
gaining  the  senses  one  by  one.  The  back  of  his 
head  was  resting  on  the  board  flooring,  and  the 
pain  caused  by  that  was  his  first  knowledge  of  his 
state.  He  moved  uneasily,  and  the  glass-fragments 
rattled  as  they  were  pushed  aside.  The  sound 


THE   CORONER'S  VERDICT        123 

brought  him  more  to  himself,  but  he  still  felt  too 
weak  and  confused  to  think  at  all  clearly.  He  looked 
about  him,  and  burst  out  laughing. 

"  That's  funny,"  he  exclaimed.  "  I  must  have 
smashed  something,  I  guess." 

He  picked  up  one  of  the  pieces  of  glass,  and 
looked  at  it  curiously.  "  Hum,"  said  he,  after  a 
puzzled  inspection,  "  it  looks  like  some  of  those 
crucibles  and  things  I  bought  after  leaving  the  medi 
cal  school.  Now,  why  in  the  world  did  I  ever  spend 
so  much  money  on  that  trash  ?  "  He  rose,  carefully 
selecting  clear  spaces  on  the  floor  so  as  not  to  cut 
himself  on  the  glass.  When  he  could  stand  —  he 
felt  weak  and  uncertain  —  he  put  his  hand  to  his 
head,  and,  taking  it  down,  found  blood  on  his  fin 
gers.  "  Whew,"  said  he,  "  I  must  have  cut  myself 
somewhere,  after  all.  I'll  go  to  my  room  and  wash 
up.  What  did  I  come  up  here  for,  anyway?  " 

He  stood  still  and  tried  to  remember,  but  his  head 
whirled  with  the  effort.  "  It's  no  use,"  said  he,  "  I 
must  have  muddled  my  brain  when  I  fell.  I  re 
member  coming  up  here  to  look  for  something  — 
what  was  it?  I  think  I  went  into  the  back  of  the 
attic,  and  pulled  out  the  old  dressing-cases  and 
trunks;  but  why  did  I  do  such  an  asinine  thing, 
and  how  did  I  land  among  all  this  brass  and  glass 
and  trash  ?  Queer !  I  can't  recall  —  it  seems  I 
meant  to  send  something  —  some  of  my  chemicals 


124      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

or  apparatus,  maybe  —  to  the  city.  But  no,  that 
can't  be  true,  for  here's  the  stuff  lying  about  the 
room." 

Once  more,  Paul  put  his  hand  to  his  head  with 
an  expression  of  distress  and  confusion ;  and  again, 
on  removing  it,  he  found  blood  on  his  fingers.  That 
at  least  was  something  definite,  and  so  was  his  dis 
ordered  clothing;  so  he  \vent  rather  tremulously 
to  his  room,  took  a  bath  and  made  a  careful  toilet, 
which  freshened  his  appearance.  But  he  felt  uneasy 
and  conscious  that  his  memory  was  at  fault.  He, 
therefore,  returned  to  the  attic,  swept  up  the  frag 
ments  of  his  broken  apparatus  and  dumped  them 
into  a  big  trash-basket.  Near  where  he  had  lain 
there  was  a  little  hammer  lying  over  a  blood-stain 
on  the  floor.  "  Ah,"  he  exclaimed,  "  that  explains 
how  I  hurt  my  head.  It  must  have  been  that  I  fell, 
and  my  head  struck  the  hammer." 

From  a  strong  desire  for  occupation,  he  put  the 
room  into  some  sort  of  order,  but  still  the  perplexing 
problem  of  what  had  happened  oppressed  him. 
"  It's  no  use,"  he  cried  impatiently.  "  I  do  think 
that  I  was  trying  some  experiment,  but,  what  it  was 
all  about  Heaven  only  knows.  I  must  have  been 
working  too  hard,  for  my  mind  is  a  blank  on  that 
subject.  What  was  I  doing  up  here  this  morning? 
I  feel  like  a  man  waked  out  of  a  dream  —  only  I 
don't  recall  the  dream."  Then  he  began  to  wonder 


THE   CORONER'S   VERDICT         125 

what  time  it  was,  and,  looking  at  his  watch,  saw  it 
was  about  half-past  nine.  "  Goodness !  "  he  ex 
claimed,  "  they  must  have  finished  breakfast,  and  I 
am  ravenous.  I'll  go  down  at  once;  but  mum  is  the 
word.  I  don't  want  any  one  to  suspect  I've  lost  my 
senses." 

Paul  found  himself  forced  to  go  slowly,  holding 
to  the  hand-rail,  for  his  steps  were  uncertain,  and 
his  head  turned  dizzy  now  and  then.  Mrs.  Breen 
was  by  the  window  of  the  breakfast-room,  reading 
her  paper.  She  was  distant,  conscientiously  so  be 
cause  of  his  tardiness,  so  he  went  to  the  table,  mean 
ing  to  forage  for  himself.  He  noticed  that  Edith's 
place  was  still  undisturbed,  and  he  smiled  to  think 
that  this  of  itself  was  enough  to  account  for  his 
aunt's  taciturnity. 

Suddenly  there  came  the  sound  of  a  latch-key  at 
the  front-door.  The  rattling  was  noticeable  because 
it  was  so  rapid  and  irregular.  Mrs.  Breen  and  Paul 
looked  up  in  surprise,  and  then  the  door  was  flung 
open.  Philip  Breen  rushed  in  with  his  hat  on,  and, 
turning  to  his  wife,  said  in  a  low  tone  that  was  made 
terrifying  by  his  pale  face  and  trembling  lips :  — '• 

"  Do  you  know  anything  about  Edith  ?  " 

"  Edith  ?  "  Mrs.  Breen  repeated ;  "  she  is  not  up 
yet." 

"  Send  up  —  no,  go  up  to  her  room,"  said  her 
husband,  "  at  once." 


126      THE   CASE  OF   PAUL   BREEN 

Mrs.  Breen  left  the  room  without  a  word,  and 
Philip,  turning  to  his  nephew,  said  still  in  the  same 
low  tone :  —  "  There's  been  a  collision  on  the  road, 
and  the  cars  caught  fire.  They've  found  a  body, 
and  I'm  afraid  —  I'm  afraid  —  I  don't  see  how  it 
is  possible  though." 

Paul  rose,  confused  and  white.  Nothing  was 
clear  to  him,  but  the  mention  of  the  railroad  recalled 
vaguely  for  the  moment  his  trip  to  the  station. 
"  But  what  about  the  trunk  ?  "  he  stammered. 

Mr.  Breen  looked  amazed  at  this  queer  question. 
Before  he  could  answer,  Mrs.  Breen  had  returned. 

"  She  isn't  there,"  she  cried.  "  Oh,  Philip,  what 
is  it?  —  what  is  it?  " 

"  Be  quiet,"  Mr.  Breen  replied.  "  There  has  been 
an  accident  on  the  road,  and  they  have  found  among 
the  ruins  of  one  of  the  cars  the  body  of  a  young  girl, 
—  and  —  " 

Mrs.  Breen  began  to  cry. 

"  Now,  there,  there,"  continued  her  husband 
soothingly,  "  it  may  all  be  a  mistake.  They're  not 
sure.  But  if  Edith  can't  be  found  —  " 

Paul  could  hardly  follow  their  words.  His  head 
whirled,  and  he  repeated  to  himself,  "  If  Edith  can't 
be  found  —  "  Then  he  spoke  aloud  :  —  "  What  is 
it,  Uncle  Philip?  Is  Edith  missing?  —  has  she  run 
away  again  ?  " 

Mr.  Breen  turned  to  him  sharply.      "  Paul  —  I 


THE   CORONER'S   VERDICT        127 

never  knew  you  so  slow-witted.  Don't  you  under 
stand  me?  They  think  she  has  been  killed." 

"Killed?    Killed?    How?" 

"  Killed  in  a  railway  accident.  When  did  you 
see  her  last?  " 

Paul  tried  to  think,  and  then,  slowly  answered  as 
he  gathered  his  wits  together :  —  "I  don't  know 
exactly.  I  was  hurt  this  morning,  on  the  head,  and 
my  mind  is  all  confused,  uncle.  I  haven't  seen  Edith 
since  last  night  at  dinner,  I  believe.  I  don't  re 
member,  and  it  may  be  —  But  —  I  can't  realize  it. 
Edith  dead?"  Paul  spoke  like  one  half  dreaming. 
[His  brain  was  benumbed ;  his  manner  was  apathetic. 

Mr.  Breen,  struck  by  his  apparent  indifference, 
retorted  angrily.  "  You  hurt  ?  I  don't  see  anything 
the  matter ;  you  look  all  right.  But  you  don't  seem 
a  bit  sorry.  Haven't  you  a  heart  in  you,  Paul?  I 
never  thought  you  were  very  fond  of  your  sister  — 
but  when  the  poor  girl  —  "  Here  his  voice  broke 
and  he  went  abruptly  out  of  the  room.  Mrs.  Breen 
followed  him,  her  hands  clutching  her  broad  bosom, 
usually  so  placid,  and  Paul  was  left  alone.  He  went 
up  to  his  own  room,  and  sat  down  in  a  lounging 
chair.  He  repeated  to  himself,  "  Edith  is  dead ; 
Edith  is  killed;  "  and  then  ruminated  stupidly  upon 
his  words,  as  if  {hey  were  in  a  forgotten  tongue. 

Early  in  the  afternoon,  Adolph  returned  from  the 
city,  summoned  by  a  telegram  from  his  father.  He 


128     THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

stopped  at  the  station,  and  positively  identified  the 
stark  remains  as  those  of  the  light-hearted  child 
whom  he  had  sent  on  her  way  to  her  death  .only  a 
few  hours  before.  Then  he  hurried  home,  exalted  by 
the  speedy  realization  of  his  hopes;  only  to  find  in 
Philip  Breen's  bitter  account  of  Paul's  queer  be 
havior  a  new  complication  which  must  be  met. 

"  Have  you  seen  Paul,  Adolph  ? "  his  father 
asked,  after  his  first  exclamatory  remarks. 

Adolph  shook  his  head,  but  remained  silent; 
startled  to  learn  that  Paul  was  alive  and  apparently 
uninjured,  and  with  wits  all  alert  to  work  out  some 
advantage  for  himself  from  the  changed  situation. 

"  He  hurt  me,"  continued  Philip  Breen.  "  I  knew 
he  had  no  particular  sympathy  with  his  poor  sister, 
but  —  by  the  Lord  Harry  —  I've  seen  a  man  more 
moved  over  the  death  of  a  bull-pup,  Adolph.  He 
seemed  as  cool,  as  indifferent  as  —  Why,  he  made 
me  want  to  throttle  him." 

"  I  can  hardly  believe  you,"  replied  Adolph, 
slowly,  seeing  light,  but  feeling  his  way;  "  Paul 
may  be  hard-hearted,  but  I  always  thought  him 
prudent,  at  least." 

"  Prudent?"  repeated  his  father,  puzzled  to  make 
out  Adolph's  meaning.  "I. don't  see  why  you  say 
that?" 

"  Why,  father,  I  shouldn't  have  spoken  so  about 
Paul,  perhaps.  That's  the  worst  of  having  studied 


THE   CORONER'S   VERDICT        129 

law.  It  only  occurred  to  me  that  since  Paul  will  in 
herit  the  estate,  now  that  Edith  is  not  living,  it 
would  be  commented  on  if  he  seemed  not  to  mourn 
for  her.  I'm  sorry  I  said  it ;  but  —  " 

"  You're  right,"  Philip  Breen  interrupted.  "  And 
yet,  if  I  really  believed  Paul  was  thinking  of  money 
at  such  a  time,  by  —  No,  I  can't  believe  it.  Yet  — 
he  was  cool  enough.  Oh,  I  don't  know  what  to 
think.  Poor  Edith,  poor,  foolish  child,  so  bright, 
so  pretty.  I  can't  get  over  it.  I  didn't  know  how 
much  I  cared  for  her  until  —  Leave  me  alone, 
Adolph,  my  boy;  I  must  fight  it  out  by  myself; 
and  then  —  " 

"  Yes,  try  to  compose  yourself,"  said  Adolph. 
"  There  is  nothing  we  can  do  at  present.  The 
coroner  is  in  charge;  there  will  have  to  be  an  in 
quest.  After  a  while,  we  must  consult  together; 
but  there  is  time  for  that." 

Adolph  went  directly  to  Paul's  room.  To  his 
knock  came  the  reply,  "Who  is  it?"  but  when  he 
answered,  Paul  said  eagerly,  "  Come  in,  I  wanted 
to  see  you." 

Paul  was  seated  by  a  little  table,  with  his  head 
on  his  hands.  He  began  at  once :  "  Tell  me,  what 
is  all  this  about  Edith?  They  say  she  is  dead,  and 
somehow,  I  don't  seem  able  to  think  so.  Isn't  it 
a  mistake  ?  " 

"  It  is  no  mistake,"  Adolph  replied.     "  I  saw  her 


130      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL  BREEN 

body  at  the  station.  She  is  dead,  indeed,  poor 
child." 

"  Horrible,  horrible,"  Paul  moaned.  "  I  cannot 
make  it  real.  What  do  you  suppose  has  come  over 
me  ?  I  got  up  early  this  morning  —  I  went  to  the 
station,  I  think  —  " 

"  What  for  ?  "  asked  Adolph,  surprised. 

Paul  looked  at  him  blankly.  "  Adolph,  I  don't 
know,"  he  answered.  "  It's  all  a  muddle  to  me. 
I  had  a  fall,  and  something's  gone  wrong  in  my 
brain.  I  cannot  get  anything  straight.  I  hear  you 
say  '  Edith  is  dead.'  I  repeat  the  words  to  myself, 
but  they  do  not  affect  me  —  yet.  There  is  a  mist 
over  my  mind." 

Adolph  was  watching,  with  an  eye,  keen,  hard 
and  cruel.  He  sat  for  a  while,  playing  with  a  paper- 
knife  on  the  table.  Then  he  said,  without  taking  his 
gaze  from  his  cousin's  face :  — 

"  It's  most  unfortunate,  Paul ;  most  unfortunate." 

"What  is  most  unfortunate?"  Paul  inquired. 

"  Why,  you  must  know  that  now  you  will  come 
into  Edith's  property  —  " 

"Shall  I?" 

Adolph's  lip  curled.  "Drop  that,"  he  went  on; 
"  don't  try  to  play  the  innocent  with  me.  You're 
no  fool,  except  about  your  old  messes  and  bottles, 
and  I've  always  believed  they  were  all  a  pretence. 
You  may  not  care  about  your  sister's  death;  but, 

, 


THE   CORONER'S  VERDICT        131 

if  you  want  to  keep  people's  good  opinion,  you  had 
better  show  some  feeling  over  it.  And  this  cock- 
and-bull  story  about  mist  in  your  mind  won't  go 
down  with  anybody.  Don't  try  it,  I  say.  When 
were  you  at  the  station?  —  and  what  for?" 

"  This  morning  —  very  early.  I  went  to  see 
something  about  a  trunk." 

"What  trunk?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  Paul  replied,  like  a  child  puz 
zled  by  a  problem. 

"  It's  my  opinion,"  Adolph  continued,  "  that 
you're  dopey.  I  always  wondered  what  kept  you 
up  there  in  that  lunatic  cell  in  the  attic.  Did  you 
have  any  opium,  up  there  ?  " 

"Opium?  Not  opium;  but  I  did  have  laudanum. 
I  used  to  keep  it  for  —  for  my  experiments." 

"  Experiments  be  hanged.  What  did  you  hope 
to  accomplish  by  them?  Did  they  ever  amount  to 
anything?" 

"  I  think  not,"  said  Paul,  drearily.  "  I  know  I 
smashed  all  my  apparatus  —  " 

"  Of  course,  you  did.  You  were  dopey,  I  say. 
Muddling  up  there,  and  playing  for  time.  And 
you've  taken  a  dose  this  morning.  You're  off  your 
head,  Paul,  and  had  better  sober  up,  or  you  may  find 
yourself  in  trouble  before  long." 

"  I  don't  think  I  took  anything ;  I  never  do  touch 
such  things,"  Paul  went  on,  still  dispassionately. 


132      THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

"  But,  Adolph,  I  don't  know.  I  remember  going  to 
the  attic  —  " 

"What  for?" 

"  I  don't  remember.  For  the  trunk,  I  think.  The 
next  thing  I  recall  is  being  at  the  station,  and  then 
I  don't  know  anything  more  until  I  woke  up,  lying 
on  the  floor,  with  a  wound  in  my  head  —  " 

"A  wound?     Where?" 

Paul  put  his  hand  to  the  back  of  his  head. 
Adolph  arose,  went  behind  him,  and  looked  care 
fully,  but  could  find  nothing. 

"  Paul,"  he  said,  "  you  are  in  a  pipe-dream. 
There  is  no  wound  on  your  head." 

"  But  there  was  blood  on  my  hand  where  I 
touched  it." 

"  Then,  it  wasn't  your  blood,  or  there  wasn't 
any." 

"  But  there  is  some  blood  on  that  towel  over 
there,"  Paul  insisted. 

"  Then,"  said  Adolph  even  more  impressively, 
"  it  isn't  your  own.  Paul  —  you  have  been  out  of 
your  senses,  and  the  Lord  only  knows  what  has  hap 
pened  during  that  time..  Listen  to  me,  if  you  can 
keep  your  head  clear  of  that  damned  drug  for  an 
instant.  Edith's  body,  the  body  of  your  sister,  upon 
whose  death  your  material  happiness  depends,  was 
found  in  the  wreck  of  your  trunk.  So  —  you  can 
think  that  over  at  your  leisure.  I  want  you  to  know 


THE   CORONER'S   VERDICT        133 

this.  I  learned  it  when  I  came  by  the  station.  I'm 
afraid  to  say  what  may  happen  to  you  if  you  can't 
tell  a  better  story  than  you  have  told  me.  You'd 
better  pull  your  wits  together  and  try."  And 
Adolph  left  him. 

Paul  heard  the  words,  and  afterwards  they  came 
back  to  him  in  their  full  meaning.  But  now  they 
sounded  muffled,  and  from  afar,  as  did  the  tidings 
of  Edith's  death.  He  made  several  vain  efforts  to 
think  connectedly;  but,  exhausted  by  the  physical 
and  mental  shocks  he  had  successively  undergone, 
he  fell  asleep  where  he  sat,  murmuring :  —  "  Did  I 
take  laudanum?  What  is  it  that  clogs  my  brain? 
I  don't  know ;  oh,  God,  I  can't  remember !  " 

When  Paul  awoke,  he  was  ravenously  hungry 
again.  He  ate  something  in  his  own  room,  for  he 
was  beginning  to  understand  from  the  averted  faces 
of  the  servants,  and  the  general  concurrence  in  his 
seclusion,  the  position  in  which  he  was  placed  by 
his  sister's  death.  Then  he  wandered  out,  and, 
driven  more  by  instinct  than  by  any  reason  he  could 
have  given,  he  went  to  John  Strain's  house,  and 
asked  for  Constance  Sanderson.  She  was  his  only 
confidante;  perhaps  she  could  restore  him  to  him 
self. 

And  perhaps  Constance,  who  had  already  heard 
something  of  the  story,  and  who  was  more  intensely 
alarmed  than  she  dared  betray,  might,  through  the 


134      THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

guidance  of  that  divine  sympathy,  which  is  one  of 
the  attributes  of  love,  have  led  his  troubled  thoughts 
back  to  the  purposes  which  had  inspired  him  and 
thence  on  to  what  but  yesterday  had  seemed  the 
beginning  of  their  realization,  had  not  another  fem 
inine  passion,  less  retiring,  more  alert  and  pertina 
cious,  and  as  evil  as  hers  was  good,  prevented.  She 
began  by  advising  Paul  to  attend  at  once  to  his  state 
of  health  —  upon  that  all  else  might  depend.  "  Go 
without  delay  to  a  doctor,"  she  entreated. 

"Doctor?"  repeated  Paul  bitterly.  "Don't  I 
look  sound  and  well  in  every  respect?  Why  should 
I  go  to  a  doctor?  And  who  is  there  that  can  min 
ister  to  a  mind  diseased  ?  " 

"  No  one  can  under  this  honest  roof,"  cried  a 
strident  voice;  and  Abigail  Alice,  aflame  with  her 
instinctive  hatred  of  Paul,  entered  the  room,  and 
stood  significantly  pointing  to  the  door.  "  Miss 
Sanderson,"  she  continued,  "  if  you  have  any  re 
spect  for  my  authority,  or  any  wish  to  keep  your 
position  here  under  it,  you  will  at  once  go  upstairs. 
And  you,  sir,  you  who  are  involved  in  the  foulest 
deed  that  ever  disgraced  humanity,  you  leave  this 
house  instantly,  or  I  will  send  for  the  police,  who 
must  be  looking  for  you,  to  put  you  out." 

As  Constance  hesitated,  glancing  toward  Paul, 
with  her  hands  half  outstretched,  a  dull,  heavy  look 
crept  over  his  face.  He  bowed  his  head ;  without  a 


THE   CORONER'S  VERDICT        135 

word,  without  looking  to  right  or  left,  he  went  out 
of  the  house,  the  personification  of  stolidity,  yawn 
ing  as  he  went.  And  when  he  reached  home,  in  a 
stupor,  resembling  somnambulism,  he  threw  himself 
on  his  bed,  and  sank  at  once  into  a  dreamless  sleep 
that  lasted  unbroken  until  morning. 

That  day,  the  inquest  was  held.  From  the  facts 
established  there  seemed  no  escape  from  the  con 
clusion  that  the  trunk  in  the  burning  wreck  had  con 
tained  the  body  of  Edith  Breen.  The  agent  testified 
that  Paul  had  shipped  this  trunk,  addressed  to  him 
self,  to  be  delivered  at  the  Central  Station  in  Car- 
teret.  Adolph,  with  apparent  reluctance,  deposed 
as  to  his  interview  with  Paul.  Mr.  Breen  produced 
the  will  of  his  brother  Neil,  showing  how  material 
an  interest  Paul  had  in  his  sister's  death,  and  then 
detailed  his  unfeeling  conduct  when  informed  of 
that  event.  Mrs.  Breen  testified  to  the  quarrel  be 
tween  Edith  and  Paul,  and  his  threats  to  her,  sub 
sequently  repeated  to  herself.  Paul,  on  going  to  the 
stand  of  his  own  volition,  made  an  unfavorable  im 
pression  by  his  confused  and  unsatisfactory  account 
of  his  actions.  Everything  pointed  out  the  one  and 
only  criminal.  Without  leaving  their  seats,  the 
jury  rendered  a  verdict  that  Edith  Breen  had  been 
done  to  death  by  her  brother,  Paul  Breen.  There 
upon  he  was  committed  without  bail,  charged  with 
deliberate  and  premeditated  murder. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  'ATTORNEY  FOR  THE  PEOPLE 

A  POLITICAL  uprising  of  the  people  is  likely  to  be 
a  temporary  triumph  of  logic.  The  right  man  for 
once  is  chosen  for  the  right  place,  and  then  there  is 
a  relapse  to  those  haphazard  methods  of  luck  and 
influence  which  make  our  boasted  civilization  not 
only  free  but  easy. 

John  Strain's  fight  against  local  corruption, 
adroitly  reinforced  as  it  was  by  Adolph's  astute 
methods,  had  its  logical  results.  In  the  fall,  he  was 
swept  into  the  office  of  district  attorney  by  a  tre 
mendous  majority.  Then  the  ordinary  citizen  de 
voted  himself  once  more  to  his  private  affairs,  con 
fident  that  public  business,  for  a  time  at  least,  would 
receive  an  equal  attention. 

Public  business  at  this  juncture,  in  the  minds  of 
the  many,  meant  the  "  Breen  Murder  Case." 
Though  the  defendant  had  waived  examination, 
and,  since  his  first  incoherent  protestations  of  inno 
cence,  had  preserved  a  moody  silence,  popular  in 
dignation  against  him  was  still  evident  in  wild  talk 

136 


ATTORNEY  FOR  THE   PEOPLE    137 

on  the  streets,  and  in  the  wilder  gestures  of  the 
crowd  that  daily  thronged  about  the  jail,  causing 
the  sheriff  to  keep  double  watch  and  ward.  Noth 
ing  could  be  plainer  to  a  man  of  Strain's  keenness 
than  that  a  thorough  and  successful  prosecution  of 
this  notable  case  would  make  him  master  of  his  own 
political  future. 

And  yet,  though  he  had  his  witnesses  well  in 
hand,  ready  for  the  meeting  of  the  Grand  Jury,  to 
the  vigilant,  tireless  eyes  of  one  person  he  showed 
little  of  that  zeal  which  ordinarily  inspired  him  in 
the  conduct  of  an  important  matter.  That  person 
was  his  wife ;  and  her  jealousy  not  only  interpreted 
the  cause  of  his  seeming  lukewarmness,  but  sug 
gested  the  methods  by  which  it  might  be  revivified 
and  intensified  to  the  detriment  of  the  two  beings 
whom,  above  all  others,  she  detested. 

Paul  she  had  long  hated  for  reasons  vague,  psy 
chological,  instinctive,  yet  satisfactory  and  conclu 
sive.  Now,  that  burning,  insistent  hatred  of  him 
included  her  kind,  faithful  and  one-time  congenial 
companion,  Constance  Sanderson,  not  only  on  his 
account,  but  also  on  her  own,  the  girl's,  and  above 
all,  on  her  husband's.  It  made  no  difference  that 
she  might  very  well  know  that  the  one  and  only 
reason  why  Constance  was  closeted  frequently  of 
late  with  John  Strain  was  her  pure  affection  for 
Paul,  and  her  absolute  faith  in  his  innocence.  They, 


138      THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

who  at  first  had  scarcely  spoken  to  each  other,  were 
now  closeted  together;  while  she,  the  wife,  who 
ought  to  be  the  confidante,  was  shut  out,  ignored, 
as  a  negligible  quantity.  Did  not  that  prove  that 
her  husband  had  had  a  sinister  motive  when  he  had 
induced  her  to  employ  this  creature?  Did  not  his 
present  conduct  tally  with  the  slights  and  shames 
he  had  put  on  her  for  years?  Well,  so  let  it  be; 
she  had  one  stanch  avenger,  and  that  was  herself! 

When  all  the  forces  of  a  starved,  unsatisfied 
nature  are  concentrated  on  a  single  object,  they 
either  find  an  opportunity  or  they  make  one.  The 
next  time  that  Adolph  called,  only  to  receive  the 
monotonous  message  that  "  Miss  Sanderson  begged 
to  be  excused,"  Mrs.  Strain  beckoned  him  into  her 
own  sitting-room. 

"  She  is  shut  up  in  the  library,  as  usual,  with 
John,"  she  said  viciously. 

"  Ah,  improving  each  shining  hour  like  our  un 
exceptionable  friend,  the  bee  ?  " 

"  Improving  each  possible  chance  to  say  a  good 
word  for  that  abominable  cousin  of  yours.  I'm 
sorry  to  say  so,  Adolph,  but  Miss  Sanderson  has 
become  the  intermediary  of  that  wretch  to  cause 
my  husband  to  do  less  than  his  full  duty.  She  neg 
lects  me  shamefully,  spending  all  her  time  in  con 
cocting  schemes  in  the  jail,  and  then  carrying  them 
out  in  the  library.  Mark  my  words  :  Let  her  once 


ATTORNEY   FOR  THE   PEOPLE    139 

persuade  John  that  Paul's  pretended  lapse  of  mem 
ory  is  real,  the  result  of  some  accident,  or  better 
yet  of  a  blow  from  Edith's  unknown  murderer,  and, 
from  being  his  prosecutor,  he  will  become  his  par- 
tizan.  He  is  a  hard  man,  ah,  yes,  none  knows  it 
so  well  as  I ;  but,  above  all  things,  he  wishes  to  be 
a  just  one." 

"  And  then  ?  "  asked  Adolph  easily. 

"  And  then  ?  Why,  Paul  will  be  vindicated ;  the 
crime  will  pass  into  the  mysteries,  soon  to  be  for 
gotten,  and  they  two  will  be  happy  on  the  fortune 
that  ought  to  be  yours.  Yes,  yours,  in  the  course 
of  time,  when  your  father  dies.  Oh,  I  know  very 
well  what  I'm  talking  about ;  John  explained  it  all 
to  me  when  the  murder  first  came  out,  and  before 
that  girl  had  made  him  chicken-hearted.  If  Paul 
is  convicted  of  having  killed  Edith,  he  will  lose  all 
title  to  an  inheritance  that  thus  would  come  only 
to  him  through  his  own  wrong,  and  the  entire 
property  will  go  to  your  father  as  heir-at-law  and 
next  of  kin  of  Neil  Breen.  But  what's  the  use  of 
talking  about  it;  you  know  it  much  better  than  I 
do." 

"  Yes,  I  do  know  it,"  admitted  Adolph,  with  a 
thoughtful  sigh.  "  I  have  figured  it  all  out,  as  any 
other  lawyer  would.  And  now,  from  what  you 
say,  I  stand  to  lose  both  ducats  and  daughter." 

" '  Stand    to    lose  ? '  "     repeated     Mrs.     Strain 


140      THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

fiercely.  "  A  true  man  advances  to  win.  You  must 
destroy  her  interest  in  Paul,  you  must  secure  it  for 
yourself  —  " 

"  She  loves  him,  I  fear  —  curse  him  that  I  must 
say  it !  " 

"  She  loves  herself  more.  Take  a  young  woman 
like  that,  who  has  made  her  living,  her  position,  by 
her  own  exertions,  she  has  an  absurdly  high  esti 
mation  of  her  reputation;  not  character,  under 
stand,  but  reputation.  She  will  do  anything  rather 
than  compromise  herself,  even  change  lovers,  do 
you  see?  You  men  make  me  positively  sick,  the 
timid  way  you  handle  the  women  you  desire  as  if 
they  were  porcelain.  Now,  what  prevents  you  from 
turning  Constance  into  your  instrument  ?  —  one 
doesn't  have  to  marry  a  girl  in  her  station  unless 
one  wants  to,  you  know.  Why  such  lack  of  a  little 
courage,  a  little  ingenuity,  of  course,  and  not  the 
lack,  I  promise  you,  of  a  serviceable  friend?"  So 
speaking,  Mrs.  Strain  changed  the  subject  abruptly, 
nor  did  Adolph  succeed  in  recurring  to  it  that 
evening. 

There  was  something  in  the  woman's  words,  in 
sidious,  insinuating,  vibrating  with  unrestrained 
power,  that  inflamed  Adolph's  imagination.  Since 
his  parting  talk  with  Edith,  his  nature  had  either 
deteriorated  or  developed  —  it  surely  had  changed 
for  the  worse.  He  had  stood  on  the  Mount  and 


ATTORNEY   FOR  THE   PEOPLE    141 

yielded  to  the  Temptation ;  thenceforth,  whether  or 
no  he  knew  the  better,  he  must  choose  the  worse. 
Indeed,  he  had  figured  out  all  the  contingencies  of 
Paul's  surprising  misadventure.  Already  they  had 
kept  him  silent,  when  a  word  would  have  set  his 
cousin  free;  what  active  hostility  might  they  not 
cause  him  to  take,  instigated  as  he  now  was  by  all 
the  elemental  passions ! 

What,  then,  had  the  woman  meant,  or,  rather, 
how  much  had  she  meant  ?  There  was  malice  surely 
in  her  hints;  was  there  also  truth?  If  Constance 
was  a  mere  creature  of  conventionalities,  held  in 
check  by  prudence,  but  not  by  principle,  why 
shouldn't  he  have  her  instead  of  Paul  ?  Already  the 
poison  had  begun  to  work,  already  the  girl,  brought 
out  from  the  glow  of  ideality  into  the  glare  of  the 
market-place,  seemed  more  to  be  desired  than  alto 
gether  desirable.  She  was  beautiful,  ah,  yes;  but 
rather  as  the  flower  to  be  plucked  than  the  star  to 
be  adored ! 

So  Adolph  mused,  going  from  bad  to  worse,  not 
plotting  yet,  but  willing  to  avail  himself  of  a  plot, 
and,  in  his  wildest  thoughts,  finding  encouragement 
in  Mrs.  Strain's  assurance  of  a  serviceable  friend. 

The  house,  which  had  been  Judge  Hazlett's,  and 
now  was  John  Strain's  by  conquest  of  marriage,  was 
a  broad  and  comfortable  structure,  with  a  great  hall 
way  running  through  the  centre  and  extending  up 


142      THE   CASE  OF   PAUL   BREEN 

to  the  roof,  giving  a  view  of  the  successive  floors 
with  their  rooms  opening  on  galleries.  Constance 
Sanderson's  room  was  on  the  second  floor.  It  had 
two  doors ;  one  to  the  gallery  overlooking  the  main 
hall,  and  the  other,  which  was  never  used  and  al 
ways  locked,  leading  to  a  rear  passage  and  thence 
to  the  servants'  stairway. 

Constance  sat  in  this  room,  in  somewhat  melan 
choly  thought,  one  evening,  when  the  Strains  were 
entertaining  a  few  friends.  She  had  refused  to  be 
present  at  the  gathering,  thereby  arousing  the  dis 
pleasure  of  her  mistress. 

"  I  don't  see  why  you  act  in  such  a  ridiculous 
way,"  Mrs.  Strain  had  said.  "  Everybody  will 
know  that  you  stay  away  on  Paul  Breen's  account, 
and  yet  Adolph,  his  own  cousin  —  more's  the  pity 
—  is  coming." 

"  Yes,  Adolph  puzzles  me  by  his  indifference," 
the  girl  had  replied  sadly.  "  It  must  be,  of  course, 
because  he  is  so  sure  of  Paul's  innocence,  but  —  " 

"  That's  it,  no  doubt,"  the  matron  had  interrupted 
with  fine  sarcasm.  "  Of  course,  every  one  thinks 
Paul  is  innocent.  That  is  why  they  keep  him  locked 
up  in  a  cage  like  some  wrild  beast." 

This  conversation  now  recurred  to  Constance  as 
one  of  the  many  hard  things  she  had  of  late  been 
forced  to  endure  from  Mrs.  Strain.  The  woman's 
growing  malignity  towards  her  was  too  evident  for 


ATTORNEY   FOR  THE   PEOPLE    143 

question,  but  its  cause  seemed  unfathomable.  She 
knew  that  she  had  pleased  at  first;  and  surely  she 
was  trying  even  harder  now.  Under  ordinary  cir 
cumstances,  her  pride  would  have  led  her  long  since 
to  leave  her  place,  but  on  Paul's  account  she  had 
remained,  and,  on  his  account,  she  would  remain  if 
possible.  It  must  be  that  her  daily  accounts  to  John 
Strain  of  what  Paul  told  her  would  win  his  confi 
dence  through  the  intrinsic  strength  of  truth.  The 
District  Attorney  was  hard,  every  one  said  so;  and 
she  herself  had  struck  repeatedly  against  the  rough, 
unyielding  substance  of  his  nature,  to  be  repelled  as 
if  from  a  rock.  But  yet,  every  one  said,  too,  that 
he  was  just,  and,  oh,  she  believed  it.  Though  he 
had  waved  aside  her  entreaties  as  impertinent,  he 
had  listened  willingly  to  her  arguments,  anxious, 
seemingly,  to  give  them  the  weight  of  conviction 
they  carried  to  her. 

As  she  recalled  little  incidents  of  consideration 
from  this  man,  harsh,  self-contained,  grossly  mate 
rial  though  he  was,  Constance  sought  gratefully  for 
something  she  might  do  or  give  to  show  her  appre 
ciation.  She  was  so  alone,  so  helpless,  so  poor. 
But  yet  did  not  he  love  old  books,  and  was  there 
not  in  her  possession  that  memento  of  her  father, 
cherished  through  the  years  as  a  sacred  relic,  yet 
which  might  well  be  devoted  now  to  a  still  more 
sacred  cause?  So  reflecting,  the  girl  hurried  over 


144      THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

to  the  trunk  in  the  corner  and  brought  out  the  an 
cient  volume,  wrapped  in  white  tissue-paper  and  tied 
with  black  ribbon.  As  she  did  so,  a  stealthy  sound 
sent  her  to  her  feet  with  wildly  throbbing  bosom. 
A  key  grated  in  the  lock  of  the  side-door,  and  then 
turned.  The  side-door  opened  softly,  and  closed 
again;  and  Adolph  Breen  stood  before  her. 

"  How  dare  you  —  "  she  began. 

"  Hear  me  first,"  he  interrupted  with  a  reassur 
ing  gesture,  "  and  remember  that  the  people  below 
are  certain  to  put  the  worst  construction  on  any  out 
cry,  and  that  there  are  things  for  which  a  man  may 
be  forgiven,  but  a  woman,  never.  All  I  want  is  to 
have  a  frank  and  full  understanding  with  you.  The 
time  has  come  when  you  must  cast  in  your  lot  with 
me  for  good  or  for  bad.  You  won't  hear  me? 
You're  bound  to  disgrace  yourself?"  he  whispered 
tremulously,  torn  by  chagrin  and  fear,  as  Constance 
pressed  by  him,  in  her  cold  silence,  the  very  type  of 
abhorrence :  "  Well,  go,  then,  you  proud  fool ;  but 
dare  to  mention  my  name,  and  I'll  hang  Paul  —  " 

The  decorous  guests  below  were  enjoying  them 
selves  mildly  after  their  kind,  when  a  door  on  the 
second  gallery  slammed  violently,  and  Constance 
Sanderson,  darting  down  the  stairs,  confronted  Mrs. 
Strain  as  she  came  bustling  forward. 

"  So  it  was  you,  madam,"  the  girl  exclaimed, 
pale,  agitated,  yet  with  an  indomitable  light  in  her 


ATTORNEY  FOR  THE   PEOPLE    145 

eyes,  "  yes,  it  must  have  been  you  who  contrived 
this  foul  insult  against  one  who  never  injured  you, 
one  under  your  protection.  Shame  upon  you,  I  say ; 
shame  in  the  name  of  pure  womanhood." 

For  a  moment,  Mrs.  Strain  cowered,  disconcerted, 
confused.  Then  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  Adolph 
coming  carelessly  into  the  hall  from  the  rear,  as  if 
ignorant  of  what  had  occurred.  With  the  instanta 
neous,  comprising  vision  which  imminent  necessity 
often  gives  to  the  feminine  mind,  she  saw  that,  if 
her  plotting  had  failed  in  one  way,  it  might  prove 
successful  in  another  and  even  more  desirable  one. 
Constance's  courage  had  evidently  been  stronger 
than  had  seemed  probable ;  but  would  not  the  result 
of  it  drive  away  the  girl  in  disgrace  from  her  house  ? 

Adolph  must  have  protected  himself  in  some  fash 
ion;  his  manner  asserted  that  plainly.  Likely 
enough  he  had  threatened  to  work  Paul's  destruc 
tion  ;  and  she  who  had  been  so  stout-hearted  for 
her  own  sake  would,  with  this  in  mind,  prove  as 
wax  for  the  sake  of  her  lover.  Very  well,  then; 
it  was  the  one  chance  to  take.  If  the  girl  couldn't 
accuse,  she  might  be  accused  with  impunity. 

"  Hoity-toity,"  cried  Mrs.  Strain.  "  Do  you 
think  to  face  me  down  in  my  own  house  by  such 
heroics?  There  is  an  explanation  due  from  you  to 
me,  my  young  lady,  not  from  me  to  you.  I  asked 
you  kindly  to  join  us  this  evening;  but  no,  you  pre- 


146      THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

ferred  for  some  reason  to  secrete  yourself  in  your 
room.  If  you  have  been  insulted,  if  you  are  blame 
less,  tell  us  plainly  just  what  has  happened.  We 
are  all  friends  here." 

"  Yes,  Miss  Sanderson,  we  are  all  friends  here," 
Adolph  repeated  gently,  as  he  pressed  forward. 

Constance  gasped,  as  well  she  might,  for  John 
Strain  now  pushed  his  broad  shoulders  through  the 
throng.  "  Yes,  speak  up  frankly  and  without  fear," 
he  said  admonishingly.  "  You  must  realize  that 
such  intemperate  words,  uttered  before  my  guests, 
can  not  pass  unexplained  under  my  roof." 

"  Your  wife  knows,"  she  faltered ;  tf  she  must 
have  let  him  in  through  the  side-door  of  my  room." 

"  Let  whom  in,  you  hussy  ? "  screamed  Mrs. 
Strain;  and  those  standing  about  nodded  concur 
rence. 

Constance  looked  full  at  Adolph.  He  smiled 
back  a  challenge  in  insolent  superiority.  She  re 
membered  his  threat  —  she  hesitated  —  she  made 
up  her  mind.  She  dared  not  sacrifice  Paul. 

"  I  can  not  name  him,"  she  protested  to  Mrs. 
Strain,  "  but  you  did  it." 

"I  did  it?  Oh,  isn't  the  brazen  wickedness  of 
this  creature  beyond  all  bearing?"  that  lady  re 
torted.  "  Don't  you  see,  my  husband,  don't  you  see, 
my  friends,  what  must  have  happened?  Taking 
advantage  of  our  little  gathering,  she  managed  to 


ATTORNEY   FOR  THE   PEOPLE    147 

conceal  some  low  admirer  of  hers  in  her  room. 
Then  —  why  then,  they  quarrelled,  and  exposure 
seemed  to  be  upon  them.  He  fled  by  the  back  way, 
and  she,  thinking  they  had  been  overheard  —  to 
shield  him,  to  salve  her  shame  —  has  trumped  up 
this  ridiculous  story.  It  must  be  so;  let  her  deny 
it  if  she  dare.  Why,  not  a  week  ago,  she  persuaded 
me  to  let  her  have  the  key  of  her  side-door." 

"  I  certainly  heard  loud  voices,"  said  an  imagi 
native  guest. 

"  Yes,  and  a  scream,"  added  another,  more  im 
aginative. 

Constance  looked  on  those  she  had  counted  as 
friends;  they  turned  their  faces  from  her.  She 
looked  on  Adolph;  he  showed  a  pained  expression. 
She  looked  on  her  mistress,  and  the  woman  shot 
back  the  fires  of  relentless  triumph.  She  looked  on 
John  Strain,  the  hard,  but  just,  man.  His  brows 
had  lowered,  his  lips  were  set.  Merciful  God,  might 
it  not  be  that  in  his  unbelief  of  her  would  also  be 
included  an  unbelief  of  Paul !  She  was  condemned, 
rejected,  most  despitefully  treated;  and  yet  the 
thought  of  how  far  more  pitiful  was  her  lover's  con 
dition  brought  back  her  pride  and  strength  with 
every  pulsation  of  her  loyal  heart.  Paul  needed  her ; 
she  would  live,  she  would  serve  him.  Paul  needed 
her;  she  would  put  her  trust  in  God.  Without  a 
word,  without  a  glance,  she  passed  through  the  part- 


148      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

ing  guests.  Only  as  she  reached  John  Strain,  stand 
ing  apart,  moody,  sulky,  brooding,  she  realized,  for 
the  first  time,  that  she  held  in  her  hand,  pressed  to 
her  bosom,  her  father's  book.  "  You  have  been 
good  to  me,"  she  whispered.  "  Please  keep  this 
until  the  days  come  when  you  will  think  better  of 
me."  And  then  she  went  out  into  the  night. 

Out  into  the  night  went  Constance  Sanderson, 
like  distressed  maiden  of  old,  attended  only  by  her 
virtue  and  her  grace.  With  head  erect,  she  looked 
up  at  the  stars  as  serenely  as  they  looked  down  upon 
her.  She  lived,  she  loved;  and  she  was  pure  of 
heart.  Why  should  she  fear?  Light  would  come 
after  the  darkness,  kindness  would  succeed  the  tri 
umph  of  malicious  wish  and  jealous  rage.  Some 
where  in  that  world  where  good  people  still  dwelt 
there  was  a  home  for  her,  in  which  she  might  still 
work  for  Paul.  Let  her  soul,  therefore,  be  lifted 
up  within  her,  for  God  reigned  and  His  mercy  en 
dured  forever! 

From  this  state  of  exaltation  Constance  was  re 
called  suddenly  by  a  feeble  voice  crying  for  help. 
The  road  along  which  she  had  been  walking  was 
lonesome,  with  few  houses  and  no  persons  in  sight. 
She  peered  this  way  and  that  before  she  could  locate 
the  sound.  Then  she  caught  the  glimmer  of  some 
thing  shining  on  the  adjacent  bank,  and  quickly 
discovered  there  an  old  man,  with  long,  flowing, 


ATTORNEY   FOR  THE   PEOPLE    149 

white  beard,  his  eyes  shielded  in  front  and  at  the 
side  by  black  glasses.  He  explained,  in  a  few  words, 
that,  though  totally  blind,  he  was  able  to  go  to  and 
from  the  court,  where  he  held  the  position  of  crier, 
if  only  some  one  placed  him  on  a  car  that  ran  within 
a  block  of  the  County  Building  and  of  his  home. 
Returning  late,  to-night,  a  mistake  had  been  made; 
for,  on  alighting  at  what  had  seemed  the  proper 
distance  to  him,  he  had  found  none  of  the  signs  by 
which  he  determined  locality.  Therefore,  for  fear 
lest  he  might  come  to  a  worse  pass,  he  had  waited 
patiently  for  a  helping  hand.  His  name,  he  said, 
was  Phineas  Twigg,  and  he  lived  with  his  daughter 
Millicent,  who  would  be  glad  indeed  to  thank  Con 
stance  for  her  kindness  to  him. 

"  She  might  not  be,"  Constance  replied  impul 
sively  as  she  conducted  the  old  man  along  the  road, 
"  if  she  knew  what  some  people  think  of  me." 

"  What  some  people  think,  my  dear,"  Mr.  Twigg 
asserted,  "  can  make  no  possible  difference  to  me ; 
for  I  know  that  you  are  a  good,  true  girl,  full  of 
trouble,  no  doubt,  but  free  from  guile  or  sin." 

"  You  know?  "  repeated  Constance,  wonderingly. 

"  Yes,  I  know.  There  are  compensations  ac 
corded  the  blind,  which,  in  some  ways  at  least,  make 
up  for  their  deprivations.  For  instance,  my  ear  has 
become  as  vibrant  to  the  truth  as  the  stretched 
string  is  to  the  faintest  current  of  air.  I  recognize 


150      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

its  tones  as  I  do  the  voice  of  a  friend ;  and  I  never 
have  been,  I  never  can  be,  mistaken.  Come,  then, 
home  with  me,  since  for  some  reason  your  own 
home  is  so  cold  and  distressful  for  you.  Come 
home,  if  only  to  rest  for  a  while.  Millicent  will 
welcome  you;  and  when  you  feel  that  you  know 
her  and  trust  her,  tell  your  troubles  to  her,  in  order 
that  she  and  I  may  help  you." 

And,  while  Constance  was  finding  so  truly  that 
good  people  still  dwelt  in  the  world,  John  Strain, 
in  his  library,  was  undergoing  that  revulsion  of 
sentiment  and  predisposition  which  she  had  seemed 
to  read  in  his  very  mien.  There  was  never  any 
half-way  for  his  obduracy.  A  person,  or  a  thing, 
was  either  all  right,  or  all  wrong.  He  tossed  the 
book  Constance  had  pressed  upon  him  carelessly  on 
a  back  shelf,  as  he  paced  up  and  down,  thinking  how 
close  he  had  been  to  allowing  her  to  beguile  him 
into  a  mistaken  mercy.  Never,  never,  again  would 
he  hesitate.  The  law  was  a  vast  machine,  set  in 
motion  for  the  safety  of  the  people;  and  he  who 
failed  to  carry  out  his  allotted  part  without  shadow 
of  turning,  failed  in  his  sworn  duty.  Adolph,  who 
was  with  him,  attempted  now  and  again,  so  it 
seemed,  to  assuage  his  righteous  indignation;  but, 
somehow,  what  he  said  was  but  adding  fuel  to  fire. 

"  He  may  have  done  it  in  the  heat  of  passion," 
the  young  lawyer  pleaded  as  a  last  resort. 


ATTORNEY   FOR  THE   PEOPLE    151 

"  Nonsense,  rot,  utter  drivel,"  roared  John  Strain, 
red- faced  and  truculent.  "  Adolph,  your  intentions 
may  be  all  right,  but  I  hope  you  will  never  try  any 
of  our  cases  in  like  fashion.  Why,  your  logic,  sir, 
is  damnable.  Do  those  who  murder  in  the  heat  of 
passion  arrange  beforehand  how  to  dispose  of  the 
bodies  of  their  victims,  as  this  villain  must  have 
done?  No,  no'j  I'll  hear  no  more.  As  there's  a 
God  in  heaven,  I'll  avenge  the  sordid,  deliberate 
slaughtering  of  that  little  girl;  as  there's  a  God  in 
heaven,  I'll  swing  that  execrable  cousin  of  yours. 
So  be  it  unto  me,  and  more,  if  I  fail !  " 


CHAPTER    XI 
PAUL'S  TRIAL 

BUT  John  Strain,  once  engaged  heart  and  soul 
in  the  preparation  for  Paul's  conviction,  found  little 
of  that  stern  joy  which  warriors  feel  in  foemen 
worthy  of  their  steel.  The  contrast  between  the 
strength  of  the  prosecution  and  the  weakness  of  the 
defence  was  too  marked  for  that.  On  his  side  were 
the  people,  strong  in  the  belief  that  the  railway  ac 
cident  was  the  interposition  of  the  hand  of  Aven 
ging  Justice,  and  fortifying  their  assurance  of  Paul's 
guilt  with  the  old  adage,  "  Murder  will  out."  He 
had,  too,  all  the  wealth  of  the  County,  and  the  power 
of  its  police  behind  him.  On  the  other  side,  Paul 
was  friendless  and  poor.  His  relatives  had  repudi 
ated  him ;  and  for  this  reason  he  had  refused  to 
accept  the  help  they  had  coldly  tendered.  He  was 
thus  forced  to  entrust  his  case  to  a  young  lawyer, 
assigned  by  the  Court,  whose  hands  he  made  haste 
to  tie  by  insisting  that  under  no  circumstances  would 
he  submit  to  medical  examination,  nor  permit  the 
question  of  his  sanity  to  be  raised. 

152 


PAUL'S  TRIAL  153 

This  young  lawyer  was  soon  sick  of  his  task,  and 
hopeless  of  any  success;  as  appeared  from  a  talk 
he  had  with  the  District  Attorney,  during  a  chance 
meeting  a  few  days  before  the  term  set  for  trial. 

"  Hello,  Chadwick,"  said  Strain.  "  I  hear  you 
are  going  to  move  for  an  adjournment." 

"  I  ought  to,  and  it  ought  to  be  granted,"  replied 
the  other.  "  But  what  can  you  do  with  a  client 
who  vetoes  every  sensible  suggestion,  and  insists 
that  there  shall  be  no  delays,  no  technical  defences, 
but  that  all  the  facts  shall  be  brought  out  as  speed 
ily  as  may  be  ?  " 

"  I  know  what  I  shall  do  to  him,"  retorted  Strain, 
with  a  grim  shake  of  his  head,  longing  for  the  vig 
orous  resistance  that  would  excite  his  powers  of  in 
vestigation,  of  logical  arrangement,  of  denunciatory 
eloquence. 

On  the  morning  of  the  trial,  as  the  two  lawyers 
came  together,  while  the  Court  was  engaged  in  set 
tling  its  calendar,  Mr.  Chadwick  spoke  earnestly  to 
the  District  Attorney  in  an  undertone.  Strain  shook 
his  head,  and  smiled  disdainfully;  whereupon  the 
other,  with  a  resigned  shrug  of  the  shoulders,  took 
his  seat  beside  Constance  Sanderson,  who  seemed 
the  only  friend  of  the  man  about  to  be  tried  for  his 
life. 

"  I  asked  him  whether  he  would  accept  a  plea  of 
guilty  to  a  less  degree,"  he  whispered,  "  and  you 


154      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL  BREEN 

saw  how  he  answered.  Well,  perhaps  it's  just  as 
well,  though  I  want  to  try  every  chance;  for  if  he 
had  agreed  I  don't  believe  I  could  persuade  Breen 
to  enter  such  a  plea." 

"  Of  course  you  couldn't,"  Constance  replied  in 
dignantly.  "  Paul  is  not  guilty." 

"  Let  us  admit  it,  but  how  can  we  show  it  ?  You 
can't  make  evidence  out  of  nothing,  Miss  Sander 
son.  I  never  knew  of  such  a  desperate  case.  The 
only  thing  I  can  do  is  to  throw  doubt  on  the  corpus 
delicti,  and  then  try  to  induce  the  jury  to  believe 
that  Breen  is  irresponsible." 

"  Paul  is  not  insane,"  again  protested  Constance, 
with  a  little  sob. 

"  Well,  I  nearly  am,"  sighed  Mr.  Chadwick,  as 
he  started  to  take  his  place  at  the  table  in  front  of 
the  bar. 

The  case  was  called.  The  indictment  dragged  its 
slow  length  of  legal  verbiage  to  an  incomprehensible 
end  of  its  terrible  repetitions.  Paul  pleaded  "  Not 
guilty ;  "  standing  erect,  with  head  tossed  back,  his 
wan  face  showing  a  flush,  his  eyes  flashing  fear 
lessly,  for  the  instant  transformed  by  the  magic  of 
conscious  innocence  from  the  dull,  apathetic  crea 
ture  who  had  seemed  too  inert  for  passing  pity. 
And  Constance's  heart  leaped  rapturously  in  her 
bosom  with  the  hope  that  the  change  had  come,  only 
to  resume  its  painful  throbbing  as  he  settled  back 


PAUL'S   TRIAL  155 

in  his  chair,  again  the  most  unconcerned  of  specta 
tors. 

Then  Strain  opened  the  case,  and  an  admirable 
statement  it  was,  though  a  dry  one.  No  eloquence 
was  expended  upon  the  demonstration  of  Paul's 
position  and  Paul's  character;  they  were  left  to 
speak  for  themselves.  The  peculiar  will  was  set 
forth  and  explained,  and  even  the  stupidest  of  the 
jurymen  comprehended  that  this  brooding,  melan 
choly  young  man  had  found  himself  about  to  be 
thrust  from  a  life  of  ease  and  luxury  merely  by  the 
passing  of  the  years  that  brought  his  sister  to 
womanhood.  Her  existence  meant  poverty;  her 
death  would  mean  wealth.  Paul's  silent  abstraction 
was  interpreted  as  the  germination  of  criminal  im 
pulse.  His  experiments  were  derided  as  pretences 
for  delay,  mere  subterfuges  to  gain  time,  in  which 
he  himself  had  had  no  faith.  It  was  alleged  that 
he  had  been  without  even  the  remote  chance  of  win 
ning  the  contingent  bequest;  while  the  desires  of 
his  heart  were  so  urgent  that,  even  if  he  could  have 
been  assured  of  it  at  the  age  of  forty,  it  would  have 
seemed  too  late. 

The  lack  of  sympathy  between  brother  and  sister 
was  skilfully  exaggerated  into  an  enmity,  a  hate  that 
could  not  be  quenched,  a  jealousy  that  was  murder 
ous,  beginning  in  childhood,  and  possibly  fostered 
by  parental  partiality.  Then  Edith's  escapades  were 


156      THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

recounted,  and  it  was  asserted  that  the  accused  had 
relied  upon  them  to  explain  her  disappearance  from 
home,  if  his  crime  should  be  successful.  The  Dis 
trict  Attorney  admitted  with  a  show  of  fairness  that 
all  these  were  merely  deductions,  that  might  be 
minimized  or  explained  away,  had  they  not  been 
illuminated  by  the  murderous  threats  overheard  by 
the  prisoner's  own  relatives,  and  confirmed  by  the 
providential  discovery  of  the  body  in  the  trunk. 
But  the  awful  power  that  guides  the  destinies  of 
earthly  beings  had  said,  "  This  shall  not  be."  The 
unforeseen  had  happened;  a  puff  of  steam  escapes, 
a  train  is  delayed,  another  dashes  upon  it,  and  be 
hold  —  a  foul  murder  is  revealed,  and  the  blood  of 
the  slain  cries  from  the  ground  for  vengeance! 

Strain  described  the  crime  in  its  terrible  inge 
nuity.  He  showed  how  the  young  girl  had  been 
called  to  the  upper  room  by  adroitly  devised  lures 
addressed  to  her  curiosity.  He  depicted  the  quick, 
deadly  fall  of  the  hammer  upon  the  childish  curly 
head  bent  over  some  object  the  brother  had  ex 
hibited  to  his  sister's  wondering  eyes.  The  scream, 
the  downward  plunge,  the  silence,  the  disposal  of 
the  body  in  the  trunk,  already  prepared  for  its  re 
ception,  the  shipping  of  this  ghastly  freight  to  Paul 
himself,  the  accident  that  made  all  calculations 
futile  —  all  were  related  with  a  straightforward 
simplicity  that  thrilled  and  horrified  the  court  room. 


PAUL'S  TRIAL  157 

The  witnesses  confirmed  all  that  the  District  At 
torney  had  formulated.  The  body  was  identified  as 
that  of  Edith  Breen,  though  Mr.  Chadwick  strove 
manfully  on  cross-examination  to  raise  the  merciful 
doubt.  Mrs.  Breen's  evidence  began  the  direct 
proof  of  the  murder.  Her  appearance,  poor  woman, 
so  bowed  under  the  burden  of  grief,  horror  and 
shame,  and  so  unlike  the  placid  comfort  she  had 
once  embodied,  was  a  striking  commentary  to  her 
sincerity,  as  she  told  the  story  of  the  threats  she  had 
overheard  Paul  making  to  his  sister,  threats  which 
he  had  afterward  reiterated  with  such  singular  bit 
terness  to  herself. 

Mr.  Chadwick  again  cross-examined,  not  unskil 
fully,  bringing  out  all  of  Edith's  nomadic  traits,  her 
dislike  of  restraint,  her  rebellion  under  discipline, 
together  with  a  full  account  of  her  flight  from 
boarding-school,  and  her  running  away  "  toward 
the  setting  sun." 

Mrs.  Breen's  eyes  were  averted  from  the  prisoner 
as  she  testified ;  she  was  convinced  of  his  guilt ;  she 
could  not  endure  the  sight  of  his  face,  blurred  and 
blighted,  as  it  seemed,  by  abominable  wickedness. 
But,  as  she  stepped  from  the  stand  and  by  his  chair, 
she  laid  her  hand  shrinkingly  on  her  nephew's 
shoulder.  "  Oh,  Paul,  how  could  you?  "  she  sobbed. 

Matilda  Grafton,  a  servant  at  the  Breens'  home, 
identified  the  clothing  and  two  long  braids  of  hair, 


158      THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

found  in  a  dark  corner  of  the  attic,  where  Edith  had 
thrust  them.  The  station-agent  recounted  the  inter 
view  when  Paul  had  delivered  the  trunk  to  him, 
dilating  upon  the  trembling,  the  confusion,  the  pre 
occupied  air,  so  noticeable  in  his  appearance.  Mr. 
Breen  told  of  Paul's  demeanor  when  the  body  had 
been  found,  and  repeated  his  startled  inquiry  about 
the  trunk  —  a  damning  confession,  it  seemed  now 
—  his  artful  suggestion  that  Edith  had  run  away 
again,  and  the  cold-hearted  indifference,  unable  even 
to  feign  a  grief.  And  Paul  bent  forward  as  his 
uncle  testified,  with  the  manner  of  one  hearing 
strange  tidings  to  which  he  must  give  full  credence 
through  his  respect  for  the  bearer. 

Then  Adolph  testified,  reluctantly,  yet  firmly. 
His  appearance  on  the  stand  was  admirable,  typify 
ing  the  well-equipped,  conscientious  lawyer,  cut  off 
from  the  influences  of  natural  affection  by  his  deep 
sense  of  the  obligations  of  his  oath.  He  told  of  his 
interview  with  Paul,  of  the  blood  found  upon  the 
towel  and  of  Paul's  failure  to  account  for  it  save  by 
a  self-evident  lie  at  once  exposed  when  the  search 
for  a  wound  on  his  head  proved  in  vain.  He  told 
of  Paul's  admission  that  his  experiments  had  been 
futile,  and  of  his  pretended  inability  to  account  for 
his  actions.  But,  in  this  direct  examination,  he 
made  no  mention  of  the  laudanum  in  Paul's  attic- 
room.  That,  his  trained  judgment  told  him,  would 


PAUL'S  TRIAL  159 

keep  for  the  present;  why  should  he  appear  to  vol 
unteer  damaging  information  while  Constance  San 
derson's  dark  eyes  were  set  so  searchingly  upon 
him? 

An  old  lawyer  is  chary  of  cross-examining  a 
brother  practitioner,  but  Mr.  Chadwick  had  all  the 
rashness  of  inexperience.  By  repeated  and  reiter 
ated  questions  he  strove  to  fix  in  the  minds  of  the 
jury  a  vivid  impression  of  Paul's  illogical  and  stupid 
behavior  after  the  exposure  of  the  crime  —  the  ill- 
judged  admissions,  the  lack  of  an  attempted  defence 
—  all  of  which  Adolph  answered  patiently  but  pity 
ingly. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Breen,"  persisted  the  lawyer,  "  won't 
you  summarize  as  well  as  you  can  for  this  jury  just 
how  your  cousin  appeared  to  you  on  the  morning 
in  question  ?  " 

"  Why,  he  acted  as  if  drugged." 

"  Drugged  ?  How  could  he  be  drugged  ?  Where 
did  he  have  any  access  to  drugs  ?  " 

"  Why,  of  course,  he  had  laudanum  among  his 
drugs  in  the  laboratory.  Hasn't  that  been  brought 
out?" 

"  How  do  you  know  he  had  ?  " 

"  He  told  me  so." 

"Yes,  but  did  he  admit  he  used  it  himself?  " 

"  He  did.    He  said  he  used  it." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  swear  that  he  admitted  he  had 


160      THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

taken  laudanum  that  morning  or  within  a  short 
time?" 

"  I  mean  to  swear  to  the  exact  truth.  He  said  he 
didn't  know;  that  he  sometimes  used  it." 

"  And  it  was  your  impression  that  he  was  at  that 
time  under  the  influence  of  laudanum?" 

"  I  am  not  an  expert,"  Adolph  replied  stiffly. 
"  He  did  not  act  like  himself ;  "  and  Mr.  Chadwick, 
fearful  lest  he  had  done  more  harm  than  good  to  his 
cause  by  bringing  out  this  new  evidence,  motioned 
to  the  witness  to  leave  the  stand. 

Mr.  Chadwick's  opening  was  brief,  but  to  the 
point.  He  claimed  that  the  identification  of  the 
charred  and  distorted  remains  as  those  of  Edith 
Breen  had  been  unsatisfactory  and  incomplete.  He 
enlarged  on  the  girl's  wandering  disposition,  and 
ventured  the  prediction  that  at  that  very  moment 
she  was  alive  and  well,  careless  of  all  the  conse 
quences  of  her  mad  conduct,  and  intent  only  on  the 
joys  of  sight-seeing  and  freedom  from  proper  re 
straint.  He  would  be  content,  he  asserted,  to  rest 
his  case  on  this  failure  of  proof  of  the  first  essential 
of  murder,  namely,  the  corpus  delicti,  but  contrary 
to  his  advice,  his  client  insisted  on  testifying. 
"  Take  the  stand,  Mr.  Breen,"  he  concluded.  "  I 
will  not  ask  you  questions,  as  you  prefer  to  make 
your  own  statement." 

"Your  honor,  and  gentlemen  of  the  jury,"  said 


PAUL'S  TRIAL  161 

Paul,  in  a  clear  voice,  keeping  his  feet,  and  bearing 
himself  much  as  he  had  when  pleading  to  the  indict 
ment,  "  the  witnesses  against  me  have,  with  one  ex 
ception,  testified  to  the  truth  as  far  as  I  know  it. 
The  exception  is  the  statement  that  I  used  opium,  or 
admitted  its  use.  I  believe  I  stated  to  my  cousin 
that  I  had  a  bottle  of  laudanum  among  my  chem 
icals,  but  I  did  not  say  I  used  it.  That  may  be  a  mis 
take  of  his  memory,  or  I  may  have  said  something 
that  misled  him.  I  recall  the  visit  to  the  station,  as 
described  by  the  agent,  but,  if  I  shipped  a  trunk,  I 
do  not  know  why  I  did  so,  or  what  it  contained. 
Then,  I  returned  to  my  home,  but  I  cannot  in  any 
way  account  for  myself  until  I  found  myself  lying 
upon  the  floor  of  my  room.  My  memory  of  any 
time  that  may  have  elapsed  until  I  found  myself 
there  is  completely  gone.  You  must  do  justice  as 
it  seems  right  to  you  —  but,  while  Edith  Breen  and 
I  were  not  always  to  one  another  what  a  loving 
sister  and  brother  should  be,  I  did  care  enough  for 
her  to  have  given  my  life  to  protect  hers,  and  God 
in  heaven  knows  I  have  no  knowledge  how  she  came 
to  her  death." 

There  was  a  sigh  and  then  silence  in  the  court 
room,  as  Paul  finished,  but  the  good  effect  of  his 
frankness  did  not  last  long. 

"  Let's  see  about  all  this,"  rasped  John  Strain's 
voice.  "  At  the  period,  just  prior  to  the  disappear- 


162      THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

ance,  we  will  say,  of  your  sister,  were  you  worried 
about  the  future,  and  anxious  to  settle  yourself  for 
life?" 

"  Yes." 

"  This  secret  work,  whatever  it  was,  you  were 
doing  in  your  laboratory,  did  it  give  you  any  rea 
sonable  expectation  that  it  might  furnish  you  with 
an  adequate  livelihood  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  say  that  it  did." 

"  One  other  line  of  thought.  You  are  a  gradu 
ated  doctor  of  medicine?  " 

"  I  am." 

"  I  may  assume,  then,  that  you  are  familiar  with 
the  nature  and  properties  of  laudanum  ?  Very  well ; 
what  is  laudanum  ?  " 

"  It  is  the  tincture  of  crude  opium,  largely  used 
in  medicine." 

"  A  narcotic  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  A  nerve-quieter ;  at  times  even  a  nerve-stimu 
lant?" 

"  Yes,  in  certain  doses  it  might  produce  either  of 
these  effects." 

"  Then,  under  such  conditions,  it  might  either 
fortify  the  nerves  for  the  commission  of  some  crime, 
or  calm  them  from  the  agitation  resulting  from  its 
commission  ?  " 

"  It  might." 


PAUL'S   TRIAL  163 

"  That  will  do,"  said  John  Strain ;  and,  when 
Paul  Breen  resumed  his  seat  by  the  long  table  in 
front  of  the  bar,  the  dull  shade  again  crept  over  his 
face.  He  rested  his  head  on  his  hand,  with  half- 
closed  eyes,  indifferent  that  each  tick  of  the  great 
court-clock  brought  him  nearer  and  nearer  to 
doom. 

But  John  Strain,  when,  at  length,  he  rose  to  close 
for  the  prosecution,  treated  these  two  lines  of 
thought,  thus  developed  by  cross-examination,  with 
more  consideration.  Again  and  again  he  drove 
them  home,  until  the  motive  for  the  deed  and  the 
false  courage  which  had  inspired  or  sustained  it 
were  manifest  to  the  most  sluggish  mind.  He  ex 
plained  discrepancies,  reminding  the  jury  that  the 
defence  was  lacking  only  because  "  it  had  been 
ground  to  powder  and  burned  to  ashes  in  the  crash 
and  flame  of  the  colliding  trains."  Then  he  warned 
them  solemnly  of  the  defendant's  counsel's  evident 
purpose  to  beguile  them.  "  They  dared  not  raise 
directly  the  issue  of  sanity,"  he  thundered,  "  well 
knowing  that  our  experts  would  laugh  them  out  of 
court,  but  by  innuendo,  misdirection,  and  the  ap 
pearance  of  the  defendant  himself,  as  he  cowers 
gibbering  before  you,  they  hope  for  some  forbear 
ance  on  the  ground  of  irresponsibility." 

Paul  suddenly  interrupted.  "  I  am  not  irrespon 
sible,"  he  declared  sharply.  "  I  absolutely  refused 


164      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

to  have  my  sanity  questioned.  I  am  sane,  and  in 
my  right  mind." 

"  Sane?  yes,"  repeated  the  District  Attorney, 
with  a  cruel  smile ;  "  legally  sane,  legally  responsible 
for  your  evil  doing.  But  not  in  your  right  mind. 
That  mind  of  yours  has  been  polluted  by  vile  pas 
sions,  and  seared  by  the  fires  of  cruel  jealousy  and 
deadly  hatred.  It  was  right  in  the  bygone  days 
when  you  sported  with  your  baby-sister,  proud  to 
be  her  natural  protector;  but  now  it  is  wrong,  irre 
trievably  wrong,  debased,  diabolical,  in  that  it  could 
have  conceived  the  shedding  of  her  innocent  blood. 
Gentlemen,  that  blood  cries  out  to  you  for  justice. 
Before  its  mute  eloquence,  oratory  is  abashed,  and 
human  talents  are  vain.  The  law  exacts  the  pen 
alty  of  a  life  for  a  life.  Let  your  verdict  be  as  sure, 
as  inevitable  as  was  that  act  of  Providence  which 
brought  this  hideous  crime  to  light." 

The  judge  in  his  charge  did  not  bear  so  heavily 
upon  the  prisoner  as  the  assembled  Bar  had  ex 
pected.  He  dwelt  somewhat  technically  on  the  sub 
ject  of  the  corpus  delicti,  holding,  indeed,  that  the 
proof  had  been  sufficient,  yet  differentiating  and 
making  distinctions,  in  his  desire  to  be  fair,  likely 
to  befog  the  ordinary  juror's  mind.  He  pointed 
out,  too,  that  the  evidence  was  circumstantial  only, 
and  made  so  much  of  this  that,  had  there  been  any 
reasonable  explanation  of  the  prisoner's  lack  of 


PAUL'S  TRIAL  165 

memory,  there  might  have  been  a  chance,  in  the 
opinion  of  the  Bar,  for  a  disagreement.  As  it  was, 
they  whispered  to  one  another  that  ""  Chadwick  had 
saved  his  client's  neck." 

This  expert  judgment  was  verified  when  the  jury, 
after  a  brief  absence,  returned  with  a  verdict  of 
"  guilty  of  murder  in  the  second  degree."  There 
were  a  few  buzzing  formalities,  and  then,  having 
waived  any  right  of  delay,  Paul  was  sentenced  to 
imprisonment  in  the  state  prison  at  Roscoe  for  the 
term  of  his  natural  life.  When  that  sentence  was 
recorded  he  ceased  to  be  a  man,  and  became  a  mere 
chattel  of  the  law,  entitled  to  restricted  care,  but 
deprived  of  his  natural  rights.  Had  he  been  mar 
ried,  his  wife  would  have  now  been  widowed;  did 
he  have  property,  it  was  now  subject  to  administra 
tion.  And  yet,  as  he  was  led  away,  Constance  San 
derson  smiled  tenderly  after  him,  through  her  tears. 

As  John  Strain  gathered  together  his  papers, 
there  was  a  light  tap,  tap,  on  the  floor,  and  the  blind 
Crier,  his  cane  in  one  hand,  and  feeling  along  the 
lawyer's  table  with  the  other,  came  to  his  side. 

"  The  District  Attorney?  "  he  said  inquiringly. 

"  I'm  here,  Phineas,"  John  Strain  answered. 

"  I  want  you  to  listen  to  me,  sir.  You  know  my 
belief?" 

"  Yes,  I  have  heard  of  your  notion  about 
voices  —  " 


166      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

"  It  is  not  a  notion,  Mr.  Strain,"  the  old  man  in 
sisted  respectfully.  "  It  is  faith  in  an  inspiration 
that  comes  from  above  in  recompense  for  my  loss 
of  worldly  light." 

'*  Yes,  I  know,"  said  John  Strain  absently. 

"  But  listen,"  persisted  Phineas  impressively,  his 
hand  raised  like  an  ancient  prophet.  "  You  have 
meant  to  do  your  duty,  no  doubt ;  and  yet  the  law's 
ermine  has  been  soiled,  this  day.  Paul  Breen  knows 
nothing  of  his  sister's  death,  and  his  cousin,  Adolph, 
knows  more  of  it  than  he  has  told." 

John  Strain's  face  flushed.  "  Come,  come,  you 
go  too  far,"  he  said.  "  This  is  mere  moonshine,  and 
your  brain  is  out  of  joint,  old  man.  You  don't  want 
to  lose  your  place,  do  you?  Well,  then,  be  more 
chary  of  speaking  evil. of  reputable  members  of  this 
Bar." 

"  I  must  speak  the  truth,  Mr.  District  Attorney. 
Paul  Breen  is  an  innocent  man,  and  his  cousin  is  a 
liar  and  a  perjurer." 

John  Strain  turned  away,  and  then  came  back 
impulsively.  "  I  didn't  mean  to  be  severe  on  you, 
Phineas,"  he  explained,  almost  apologetically. 
"  We  all  have  our  superstitions  and  weaknesses, 
without  the  good  excuse  that  exists  in  your  case. 
Now  that  it's  over,  I  don't  mind  admitting  that  there 
is  something  about  Paul  Breen  that  appeals  strongly 
to  me.  I  noticed  it  the  first  day  I  ever  saw  him; 


PAUL'S  TRIAL  167 

and  after  his  arrest,  why,  his  own  lawyer  couldn't 
have  searched  harder  for  an  innocent  solution  of 
his  conduct  than  I  did.  Even  now,  I  can't  help  feel 
ing  glad  that  he  escaped  with  less  than  his  just  ; 
deserts;  though  why  I  should  give  a  thought  to 
the  bloodthirsty  villain  —  who  knows  ?  " 

"  Good  night,  Mr.  Strain,"  Phineas  answered. 
"  You  will  live  to  see  him  cleared." 

Whether  or  no  this  incident  had  more  than  a  pass 
ing  effect  on  the  District  Attorney's  mind,  he  ap 
peared  subdued  and  thoughtful  on  his  homeward 
way.  His  wife  greeted  him  at  the  door  with  open 
arms.  "  Oh,  you  convicted  him,  you  convicted 
him,"  she  cried  joyously.  "  I  knew  you  would,  I 
knew  you  would.  This  is  the  proudest,  happiest 
day  of  my  life.  What  a  great  trial  it  was,  and  what 
a  grand  lawyer  you  are,  my  husband." 

"  Bah,"  replied  John  Strain,  with  a  surly  shrug 
of  his  shoulders ;  "  I'm  sick  of  the  mention  of  it. 
The  whole  thing  went  by  default.  No  credit  in  that, 
my  dear;  it  was  nothing  more  or  less  than  what 
we  lawyers  call  an  inquest." 


CHAPTER    XII 

CIVILLY    DEAD 

ON  the  day  before  that  set  for  his  removal  to 
Roscoe  prison,  Constance  Sanderson,  with  the  old 
court-officer,  came  to  bid  Paul  farewell.  Phineas 
remained  outside,  and  she  entered  the  cell  alone. 
Paul  was  sitting,  quietly  reading.  She  said  nothing 
at  first,  simply  holding  out  her  hand. 

"Why  do  you  come,  Constance?  "  he  asked,  ris 
ing,  but  with  a  distant  air.  "  Do  you  not  know  that 
I  am  the  same  as  dead  ?  " 

She  smiled  and  still  held  out  her  hand,  but  made 
no  reply.  Paul  hesitated,  then  took  her  hand  in 
both  his  own,  and  his  composure  gave  way.  There 
was  one  pitiful  sob,  wrung  from  the  agony  of 
months.  She  stood  close  beside  him,  blessing  and 
tranquillizing  with  the  faith  in  her  eyes. 

Then  she  spoke  :  — 

"  Paul,  let  us  be  thankful  that  you  are  to  have 
the  opportunity  to  prove  your  innocence.  I  have  no 
one  in  the  world  to  care  for  but  you.  Until  you  are 

168 


CIVILLY  DEAD  169 

again  free,  I  shall  think  of  nothing  but  how  to  save 
you." 

"  How  can  you  —  how  can  any  one  believe  me 
innocent?  Who  knows  that  I  am  innocent?"  Paul 
broke  out  bitterly.  "  My  God,  if  I  must  say  it,  I  do 
not  know  it  myself.  I  know  nothing  of  the  whole, 
awful  happening.  Perhaps  in  some  horrible  dream, 
some  hypnotic,  subsconscious  frenzy,  I  did  kill  that 
poor  child.  Who  can  tell?  " 

"  Hush,  dear,  you  must  not  say  such  things," 
Constance  warned,  calmly  and  confidently.  "  I  can 
not  argue  learnedly  about  it,  but  I  know  that,  .what 
ever  state  you  may  have  been  in,  you  could  not  have 
done  so  cowardly  and  cruel  a  deed.  The  human 
soul  is  a  mystery  to  us  all;  exterior  agencies  mjjy 
bring  vicious  impulses  to  growth  and  fruition;  but 
no  fibre  of  your  being  ever  conceived  any  harm  to 
another,  least  of  all  to  your  little  sister,  and  no  such 
wicked  purpose  ever  found  lodgment  within  you. 
That  is  my  faith;  and  you  owe  it  to  yourself,  to 
me,  to  put  aside  the  weak,  unmanly  doubts,  bred  by 
circumstances,  these,  surroundings  —  " 

"  Ah,  Constance,  you  are  right,  you  are  always 
right.  I  never  had,  it  is  true,  a  sense  of  guilt;  I 
am  assured,  it  is  true,  of  my  innocence ;  and  I  will 
keep  the  faith,  I  promise  you.  But  facts  are  too 
much  for  me.  The  question  is  settled;  I  am  con 
demned  for  life.  Why,  then,  did  you  come?  I 


170     THE   CASE   OF   PAUL  BREEN 

hoped  you  wouldn't  come.  You  must  know  what 
you  have  been  to  me.  I  hoped,  one  day,  you  would 
marry  me ;  and  now,  and  now  —  " 

"  I  know,  dear ;  I  know,  I  hoped  that  you  would 
ask  me ;  and,  now  that  you  will  not,  I  give  you  my 
promise  that  my  life  shall  be  yours,  Paul.  We  shall 
belong  to  one  another,  here  or  hereafter ;  be  sure  of 
it.  And  I  have  faith  that  some  time,  in  the  future, 
in  our  future,  you  will  be  cleared,  and  will  come 
to  claim  my  promise.  Until  then,  at  least  have 
hope." 

"What  can  you  do  alone?"  Paul  exclaimed. 
Even  her  promise  had  hardly  moved  him.  She 
seemed  like  a  being  from  another  world  who  could 
not  remain  with  him,  and  with  whom  he  could 
not  go.  It  was  all  as  real,  it  was  all  as  unreal,  as 
death. 

"  I  am  not  alone,"  Constance  answered ;  "  nor  am 
I  the  only  believer  in  you.  I  have  said  nothing  to 
you  of  my  own  troubles  until  now,  but  I  hope  you 
will  be  helped  by  thinking  of  others.  I  am  no 
longer  with  the  Strains  —  as  you  know  —  but  you 
do  not  know  that  I  was  forced  to  leave  them  by 
the  combined  malice  of  Mrs.  Strain  and  of  Adolph. 
Paul,  Adolph  hates  you.  It  may  be  partly  jealousy ; 
he  certainly  has  some  fancied  attraction  toward  me, 
and  is  shrewd  enough  to  have  guessed  that  I  cared 
only  for  you.  There  may  be  other  reasons,  too, 


CIVILLY  DEAD  171 

which  I  can  feel,  but  not  fathom;  but  it  is  also  be 
cause  he  knows  you  despise  the  objects  of  his  dear 
est  ambitions  —  I  realized  this  the  first  time  I  saw 
you  two  together." 

"  I  don't  despise  them;  I  care  nothing  for  them." 

"  It  is  the  same  thing.  He  wishes  to  excel  you, 
and  it  angers  him  that  you  care  nothing  for  his 
success." 

"  Great  God,"  Paul  cried ;  "  think  of  me  now." 

"  I  am  talking  of  the  past.  We  must  understand 
everything,  and  most  of  all,  Adolph.  Paul,  —  I  am 
afraid  of  him.  Even  now,  I  fear  he  will  not  cease 
his  evil-wishing,  his  evil-plotting.  But  we  are  not 
alone ;-  there  are  two  others  who  will  do  everything 
to  help  me.  I  am  living  with  Phineas  Twigg,  and 
his  daughter  Millicent ;  and  they  both  are  eager  to 
aid  in  clearing  up  the  mystery  of  your  condemna 
tion." 

"  What  do  they  know  ?  —  how  can  they  believe 
in  me  ?  "  Paul  asked  hopelessly. 

Constance  explained  the  blind  Crier's  faith  in  his 
faculty  of  detecting  truth  or  falsity  of  speech. 

Paul  sighed,  but  said  nothing. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know,"  she  continued.  "  It  seems  a 
mere  whim  to  you,  and  so  it  seemed  to  me  at  first, 
though  he  trusted  me  at  once  when  I  was  in  sore 
trouble,  dear —  " 

"  God  bless  him  for  that,"  cried  Paul. 


172      THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

"  But  I  have  learned  to  think  differently  since  I 
have  known  his  daughter.  She  is  clever,  acute,  in 
clined  to  look  at  things  with  a  sort  of  amused  skep 
ticism  ;  and  yet  she  has  absolute  faith  in  her  father's 
powers.  Paul,  she  is  a  wonderful  girl.  At  first,  I 
was  afraid  of  her;  she  is  so  high-spirited  and  proud, 
so  quick  to  resent,  so  strong  in  her  indignation. 
But,  oh,  she  has  been  so  good  to  me!  She  has  the 
loyalty  of  a  man,  joined  to  the  tenderness  of  a 
woman ;  and  it  is  these  qualities  that  make  her  sym 
pathies  and  her  prejudices  so  hot  and  impulsive. 
She  is  devout,  too,  though  without  a  speck  of  cant ; 
and  is  as  full  of  fun  as  if  she  was  a  most  miserable 
sinner  —  there !  " 

Paul  smiled  faintly  at  this  truly  feminine  defi 
nition;  and  Constance  went  on,  vastly  encour 
aged. 

"  Millicent  says  that  her  father  never  makes  a 
mistake,  in  court  or  out,  and  that,  if  he  believes  in 
your  innocence,  that  is  stronger  than  a  dozen  stupid 
acquittals." 

"  But,  my  dear  Constance,  all  this  man  claims  is 
the  power  of  detecting  falsehood.  Of  course,  I  told 
no  falsehood  —  but  —  " 

"  No  buts,  remember,"  she  warned.  "  Your  tes 
timony  is  not  the  important  matter,  at  all.  Phineas 
Twigg  says  that  one  witness  at  your  trial  did  not 
tell  the  truth.'* 


CIVILLY   DEAD  173 

Paul  raised  his  head,  startled.  "Who  was  it?" 
he  demanded. 

"  Your  cousin,  Adolph,"  Constance  answered. 
"  Mr.  Twigg  says  he  is  a  perjurer,  and  that  he  did 
not  tell  all  he  knows  — 

There  came  a  rap,  rap,  as  the  day- jailor  beat  im 
patiently  with  his  key  without.  Constance,  white 
and  trembling,  leaned  against  the  wall. 

"  Oh,  my  darling,"  cried  Paul,  himself  again  in 
the  supreme  consciousness  of  her  grief.  "  Do  not 
feel  badly.  I  will  do  everything  you  wish  —  have 
faith  in  my  innocence,  have  hope  in  our  future. 
Forgive  my  selfish  absorption ;  forgive  my  dull  ap 
preciation  of  your  devotion.  Oh,  God,  I  am  not 
what  I  am;  but,  whatever  my  state,  spell-bound, 
stricken,  oblivious  of  all  save  shadows,  I  love  you, 
I  worship  you,  my  dear." 

And  yet,  hardly  had  the  girl's  light  steps  died 
away  along  the  corridor,  before  he  resumed  his 
reading,  apprehensive,  truly,  of  a  burden  of  woe, 
yet  so  vaguely  that  it  was  an  effort  almost  painful 
for  him  to  concentrate  his  thoughts  and  determine 
just  what  had  happened,  and  just  why  he  should  be 
so  sad. 

But  his  parting  words,  glance  and  manner,  so 
natural  to  the  real  Paul,  inspired  Constance  with 
fresh  courage,  and  she  took  up  the  tangled  threads 
of  life,  resolved  to  weave  happiness  for  them  both. 


174       THE   CASE  OF   PAUL   BREEN 

Her  first  purpose  was  to  settle  upon  some  means  of 
livelihood.  While  her  father  had  left  her  a  little 
property,  it  was  insufficient  for  her  support,  unless 
she  trenched  upon  the  principal. 

The  most  obvious  resource  was  that  which  she 
had  chosen  soon  after  her  father's  death,  teaching. 
She  might  have  turned  to  this  again,  except  for  the 
advice  of  Millicent  and  Phineas  Twigg.  Their  rea 
sons  for  opposing  it  were  found  in  Constance's  de 
clared  determination  to  make  Paul's  justification  the 
main  motive  of  her  life. 

"  You  must  be  able  to  command  your  own  time," 
said  the  old  Crier,  "  for  you  can  never  tell  when  you 
may  need  to  give  an  hour,  a  day,  or  even  a  week  to 
some  investigation  connected  with  the  case." 

"  You  talk  as  if  I  were  a  detective,"  Constance 
objected. 

"  Detective  ?  "  Phineas  repeated  —  "  my  dear 
child,  detective-work  is  a  trifle  compared  to  what 
you  have  in  hand.  Here  there  is,  so  far  as  we  know, 
nothing  to  detect,  no  crime  around  which  are  a 
thousand  circumstantial  details  that  may  be  inves 
tigated  with  skill  and  patience.  Here  we  must  find 
a  blunder  of  justice  where  the  world  sees  only  its 
perfect  work'.  You  cannot  afford  to  lose  the  slight 
est  hint." 

"  Father  is  right,"  Millicent  agreed ;  "  you  and  I 
must  be  eyes  for  him,  and  it  will  not  do  for  you  to 


CIVILLY  DEAD  175 

hamper  yourself  by  selling  your  freedom  or  restrict 
ing  your  range.  It  will  be  much  better  for  you  to 
do  some  handiwork  that  will  sell." 

Accordingly,  Constance  toiled  industriously  and 
produced  some  of  these  wares,  table-covers  of  Mex- 
•  ican  drawn-work,  a  set  of  doyleys  embroidered  in 
filoselle,  some  handkerchiefs  that  were  miracles  of 
eye-destroying  needlecraft ;  and  then  endeavored  to 
find  a  market  for  them  among  the  acquaintances  she 
had  made  at  Mrs.  Strain's  house.  She  returned 
from  a  round  of  calls  completely  discouraged  and 
humiliated. 

"  Well,  what  luck  ?  "  Millicent  asked,  before  she 
had  noticed  her  friend's  depression. 

"  It's  hopeless,"  Constance  said,  restraining  her 
tears  with  an  effort. 

"  But  the  work  is  beautiful." 

"  No  one  would  look  at  it.  I  sent  up  my  card 
in  a  dozen  houses,  and  in  every  case  they  refused 
to  see  me." 

"  The  spiteful  old  cat !  "  Millicent  exclaimed. 

"  You  don't  mean  —  " 

"  Of  course,  I  mean  that  Mrs.  Strain  —  I'd  like 
to  strain  her  —  has  told  her  version  of  your  leaving 
to  all  her  friends.  Never  mind,  my  dear;  the  acid 
will  turn  in  some  day  and  consume  her.  Mean 
while,  you  must  go  to  the  shops.  You  may  not  get 
quite  so  much,  but  you  will  know  that  every  cent 


176     THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

is  fairly  earned,  and  that  you  don't  need  to  repay 
it  a  hundredfold  in  thanks." 

"  Do  you  really  think  I  can  make  any  money  by 
selling  things  to  dealers  ?  " 

"  Just  as  surely,  if  they  are  the  right  things,  as 
they  can  make  more  by  selling  them  to  customers. 
It  is  one  of  the  successive  steps  of  legitimate  busi 
ness;  while  amateur  work  never  wins  a  market  by 
itself,  but  always  has  a  hand  extended  under  its 
cloak." 

"  But  suppose  I  don't  come  up  to  the  professional 
standard?" 

"Well,"  said  Millicent  coolly,  "then  you  will 
have  to  learn,  that's  all.  Everybody  has  to  learn. 
Besides,  why  need  you  worry  so  much  about  money  ? 
We  have  enough  to  get  along,  and  it  costs  no  more 
for  three  than  for  two.  You  help  me  about  the 
house,  don't  you?  Don't  be  so  silly,  child." 

Constance  found  by  experience  that  Millicent's 
advice  was  sound.  Before  many  months,  she  had 
established  a  reputation  for  excellence  and  prompt 
ness,  and  could  count  upon  certain  earnings  for  her 
day's  work.  This,  in  every  way,  was  preferable  to 
the  chance  income  she  might  have  gained  for  a 
while  from  the  acquaintances  she  had  made  during 
her  stay  with  Mrs.  Strain.  But  the  proof  she  had 
received  of  that  woman's  persistent  malignity  often 
troubled  her,  and  she  awaited  with  secret  misgivings 


CIVILLY  DEAD  177 

the  time  when  that  other  enemy  of  her's  and  Paul's 
—  that  worse  enemy,  because  more  adroit,  Adolph 
Breen  —  should  again  begin  to  exert  his  evil  influ 
ence  against  them  both. 

But  Adolph  realized  that  there  was  a  time  for 
action  and  a  time  for  inaction ;  and  that  each,  in  its 
way,  was  an  essential  element  of  success.  As  his 
triumph  over  Paul  had  only  intensified  his  hatred  of 
his  cousin;  so,  too,  his  rebuff  by  Constance  had 
made  his  ardor  for  the  girl  more  impetuous  and 
burning.  But  the  hatred  made  no  demands  while 
Paul  was  immured  in  his  living  tomb;  and  the 
ardor,  through  its  very  virulence,  warned  him  to 
wait  for  a  favoring  chance. 

Besides,  Adolph  was  absorbed  in  his  service  to 
his  chief  —  an  absorption  most  welcome  under  these 
circumstances.  Some  unusually  flagrant  piece  of 
jobbery  had  come  to  light  through  the  unsuccessful 
speculations  of  a  political  rascal.  Needing  money 
for  margins,  a  certain  official  took  more  than  could 
be  concealed,  the  stock-market  broke  under  him, 
and  he  fled.  Investigation  began,  and,  behold,  an 
awful  muddling  of  public  accounts,  an  exodus  of  a 
covey  of  frightened  office-holders,  and  a  wild  cry 
that  the  stable-door  must  be  locked  behind  the  stolen 
horses.  The  District  Attorney,  the  fearless  and  in 
corruptible  John  Strain,  loomed  great  amid  the 
storm,  hurling  his  thunderbolts  of  indictments 


178     THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

wherever  corruption  was  unearthed.  Defiant  of  all 
influence,  deaf  to  all  cries  for  mercy,  ignoring  all 
pleadings  for  silence,  the  prosecuting  officer  of 
Oleida  County  came  to  be  in  many  minds  the  very 
embodiment  of  reform,  honesty  and  efficient  public 
service. 

When  the  storm  ceased,  and  the  groundswell  of 
popular  resentment  was  most  powerful,  behold  John 
Strain  floating  on  top  of  the  waves,  borne  onward 
toward  the  Gubernatorial  chair.  Adolph  forgot 
Paul,  forgot  Constance,  forgot  everything  but  the 
coming  State  convention,  and  the  necessity  of  secur 
ing  delegates. 

The  convention  met,  the  speeches  were  made,  the 
bands  played.  Adolph  presented  the  name  of  John 
Strain,  the  choice  of  the  honest  voters,  and  amid  a 
pandemonium  of  crazy  delegates  the  nomination  was 
made  by  a  majority  that  was  practically  unanimous. 
Then  came  a  campaign  the  result  of  which  was  a 
foregone  conclusion.  The  great,  sheeplike  body  of 
independent  and  intelligent  voters  tumbled  over  one 
another  to  rebuke  corruption ;  and  Strain  was  elected 
by  a  "  tidal  wave,"  Governor  of  the  State. 

Then  Adolph  began  to  consider  how  he  might 
profit  by  his  partner's  diversion  from  law  to  politics. 

To  Constance  and  her  friends  this  election  was  of 
importance  for  two  reasons  :  —  they  believed  Strain 
to  be  an  honest  man,  and  hoped,  if  it  became  feasible 


CIVILLY  DEAD  179 

to  ask  for  a  pardon,  that  his  familiarity  with  the 
case  and  his  admitted  probity  would  be  favorable 
elements ;  secondly,  Adolph's  absorption  in  the  cam 
paign  and  election  was  a  relief,  since  it  kept  him 
away  from  them. 

Constance  wrote  to  Paul  every  month,  and  longed 
to  send  him  some  news  of  progress  in  their  efforts; 
but  it  was  more  than  a  year  before  she  discovered 
the  slightest  item  bearing  upon  the  case.  Then,  one 
day,  when  she  and  Millicent  were  returning  from 
the  delivery  of  her  work,  through  a  street  just  off 
from  the  business  section  of  the  town,  Constance 
caught  sight  in  a  pawnbroker's  window  of  the  little, 
silver-bound  note-book  Edith  had  given  Soci'ty  Dan. 
She  herself  had  made  a  present  of  it  to  Paul,  and 
she  at  once  remembered  the  design,  two  sphinx- 
heads  in  the  corners. 

"Oh,  Millicent,"  she  exclaimed,  pointing  it  out; 
"  I  gave  that  to  Paul  Breen.  How  did  it  ever  come 
there  ?  He  would  never  have  pawned  it,  I  am  sure. 
Why,  it  was  my  gift  to  him." 

"Are  you  sure?"  Millicent  asked. 

"  I  am  sure  of  the  design ;  but,  unless  I  can  exam 
ine  it,  I  can't  be  sure  that  it  was  Paul's,  though  I 
know,  yes,  I  know  it  was." 

"  But  see,"  Millicent  said  suddenly,  "  it  is  among 
the  unredeemed  pledges.  Let's  go  in  and  look  at  it. 
Probably  it  is  for  sale." 


180      THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

They  entered  the  shop,  which  was  dark  and 
densely  filled  with  merchandise  that  exhaled  a  musty 
odor.  For  a  moment,  no  one  came  to  wait  on  them, 
and  they  coughed  once  or  twice  to  attract  attention. 
Then,  a  small  boy  dashed  down  a  narrow  flight  of 
stairs,  arrived  with  a  jump,  and  inquired  breath 
lessly  :  — 

"Say  —  what  can  I  do   for  youse?" 

"  We  saw  a  purple  note-book  in  the  window  with 
sphinxes'  heads  —  "  Constance  began. 

"  Wid  what  ?  "  the  boy  exclaimed,  backing  a  step. 

"  With  silver  corners,"  Millicent  corrected. 

"  Oh,  sure,"  said  the  enlightened  boy,  diving  into 
the  window  ;  "  This  it  ?  " 

Constance  opened  the  book,  and,  recognizing 
Paul's  handwriting,  asked  with  an  effort  how  much 
it  was. 

"  Two  and  a  quarter,  mum,"  replied  the  sharp 
little  boy. 

They  paid  the  money  and  hurried  away,  while  the 
young  salesman  lugged  out  a  big  ledger  and  labori 
ously  recorded  the  sale. 

Hardly  had  he  finished  before  Adolph  Breen  en 
tered  the  shop.  He  walked  briskly  in  and  de 
manded  :  —  "  Where's  the  proprietor?  " 

"  See  me?  "  the  boy  replied.  "  I'm  in  charge  just 
now.  "  I'm  a  good  enough  proprietor  all  right. 
What  you  want  ?  —  going  to  hock  your  watch  ?  " 


CIVILLY  DEAD  181 

"  I  come,"  Adolph  explained  with  dignity,  ignor 
ing  the  question,  "  to  see  about  the  same  business 
that  brought  those  two  ladies." 

"  Oh,  about  the  note-book,  the  P.  B.  note-book, 
hey?" 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  P.  B.  ?  "  asked  Adolph 
startled. 

"Purple  bindin',  of  course.  Did  you  spout  it? 
'Cause,  if  you  did,  the  time's  up;  and  I'm  thinkin', 
by  the  way  the  girl  grabbed  it,  you  won't  git  him 
again  —  you  hear  me.  Why,  she'd  'ev  given  a  fiver 
for  it !  " 

"  I  thought  there  was  another  week  on  it.  Will 
you  let  me  see  the  register?  " 

"  Certain,"  agreed  the  boy,  grunting  as  he  hoisted 
the  big  book  on  the  counter ;  "  there  she  am." 

Adolph  read  the  entry  at  a  glance.  It  was  dated 
on  the  very  day  Edith  had  been  killed;  at  an  hour 
long  after  the  freight-train  had  started.  The  book 
had  been  pledged  in  the  name  of  Ed  Flyaway,  — 
the  nickname  Adolph  himself  had  given  the  girl 
because  of  her  wandering  ways. 

"That's  right,  ain't  it  —  time's  up?"  the  boy 
asked. 

"  Yes,  it  is  all  right,"  Adolph  replied,  mechanic 
ally.  "  Thank  you." 

He  put  a  quarter  on  the  counter,  and  turned  to  go 
out. 


182     THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

"  Hey,  there,"  the  boy  called,  "  you're  forgetting 
your  lunch-money." 

"  I  meant  it  for  you;   don't  you  want  it?  " 

"  This  ain't  no  soup-kitchen." 

Adolph  picked  up  the  coin  and  hurried  away.  He 
had  recognized  Constance  from  a  distance,  and  had 
entered  the  pawn-shop  in  the  hope  of  finding  out 
something  of  her  errand  which  he  might  turn  to  his 
own  advantage.  He  was  thoroughly  frightened  by 
the  discovery  that  a  note-book,  evidently  known  to 
Constance,  had  been  pawned  the  very  day  of  Edith's 
death  —  when  Paul  was  lying  insensible  in  the  attic- 
room,  and  his  sister  was  being  borne  to  her  doom. 
Some  one  —  some  one  knowing  Edith's  nickname 
in  the  family  —  had  pawned  the  book  in  this  as 
sumed  name.  Who,  then,  could  this  some  one  have 
been?  What  was  this  mysterious  book;  and  to 
whom  had  it  belonged? 

"  I  am  a  fool,"  he  muttered.  "  While  I  have  been 
helping  John  Strain,  I  have  forgotten  myself.  I 
must  see  that  book ;  I  must  find  out  what  Constance 
and  that  prying  friend  of  hers  have  been  about.  If 
I'm  not  careful,  they  will  prove  Paul  innocent  be 
tween  them;  and  then,  good-by  to  Neil  Breen's 
fortune  which  now  is  my  father's  and  any  day  may 
become  mine,  he  is  failing  so  rapidly  from  his  recent 
stroke." 


CHAPTER    XIII 

PROFESSOR    TANCREDI 

THE  next  day,  when  Constance  was  at  home,  busy 
with  her  work,  the  bell  rang,  and  presently  Milli- 
cent  brought  a  visiting-card  to  her.  "  Mr.  Adolph 
Breen,"  she  read ;  "  Oh,  Millicent,  how  could  you 
admit  him?  You  know  that  I  will  not  see  him  or 
recognize  him  in  any  way." 

"  Nonsense,"  Millicent  retorted  briskly.  "  Of 
course,  I  admitted  him;  and,  of  course,  you  must 
see  him.  How  else  are  you  going  to  help  Paul? 
Remember,  you  have  one  great  advantage,  which 
you  have  never  used.  You  know  that  Adolph  Breen 
is  the  traitor  through  whose  perjury  Paul  was  con 
victed.  What  does  this  imply?  Necessarily,  that, 
if  Adolph  Breen  committed  wilful  perjury,  he  pos 
sesses  knowledge  which  might  vindicate  Paul. 
There  is  no  escaping  that,  is  there  ?  And  yet,  for  a 
scruple,  you  have  refrained  from  benefiting  by  the 
very  strong  attraction  you  exert  on  him.  Make  up 
with  him,  I  say.  Accept  his  explanations,  whatever 
they  may  be.  See  him  freely  until  he  loses  his  cau- 

183 


184     THE   CASE  OF   PAUL   BREEN 

tion  and  shows  his  hand.  Oh,  I  only  wish  he  were 
devoted  to  me.  I'd  wind  him  around  my  little 
finger;  I'd  beguile  his  innermost  secret  from  him; 
and  then,  but  not  until  then,  I  would  let  him  know 
how  I  despised,  how  I  loathed  him.  It  is  woman's 
highest  destiny,  my  dear,  to  crush  the  serpent's 
head." 

"  Yes,"  Constance  replied  slowly,  "  I  have  no 
right  to  neglect  any  possible  opportunity  —  he 
wouldn't  have  come  unless  he  was  uneasy  about 
something.  I  will  try  to  meet  him  as  if  nothing  had 
happened;  but  to-day,  for  the  first,  at  least,  Milli- 
cent,  you  must  be  with  me.  I  am  half  stifled,  unable 
to  speak,  at  the  very  thought  of  being  alone  with 
that  wretch." 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  Millicent  agreed  readily.  "  I 
will  do  the  talking.  Mr.  Breen's  first  call  will  be  a 
purely  social  one,  then,  and  much  good  may  it  do 
him." 

Millicent  was  as  good  as  her  word.  She  relieved 
Constance  from  the  first  embarrassment  of  the  meet 
ing  by  turning  her  batteries  against  Adolph  the 
moment  he  was  presented  to  her. 

"  I  feel  as  if  I  must  know  you  already,"  she 
said  with  a  malicious  little  smile,  "  I  have  heard 
so  much  about  you." 

"  From  our  too  impulsive  friend,  Miss  Sanderson, 
I  fear,"  he  replied  with  sustaining  dignity,  "  who 


PROFESSOR  TANCREDI  185 

has  misjudged  the  one  whose  only  purpose  was  to 
serve  her  and  the  unfortunate  man  in  whom  she 
was  so  deeply  interested." 

Constance  flushed  with  indignation.  "  If  your 
will  was  no  better  than  your  method  —  "  she  began, 
when  her  friend  again  interposed. 

"  Oh,  no,  Mr.  Breen,  I  wasn't  referring  to  Con 
stance  at  all,"  Millicent  rejoined.  "  You  are  a 
famous,  public  man,  you  know,  and,  of  course,  you 
have  your  eulogists  and  your  —  your  detractors. 
Look  at  your  chief,  Governor  Strain,  for  example. 
He  has  trod  both  the  strait  and  narrow  path  of 
virtue,  and  the  broad  road  macadamized  with  the 
decalogue,  from  all  accounts.  'Tis  the  penalty  of 
greatness,  or  its  twin,  notoriety."  And  she  rattled 
on  in  ceaseless  small  talk,  engaging,  flippant,  about 
the  recent  campaign,  until  Adolph  despaired  of 
accomplishing  the  real  purpose  of  his  call. 

However,  his  cool,  keen  nature  always  responded 
to  an  emergency.  On  leaving,  as  he  took  Con 
stance's  reluctant  hand,  he  said  gravely :  — 

"  When  you  write  to  Paul,  tell  him  that  his 
cousin  Adolph  is  anxious  to  befriend  him." 

"  I  won't  promise,"  faltered  poor  Contsance,  "  I 
can  hardly  be  — •, " 

"  When  she  writes,  she  will,"  cried  Millicent 
eagerly,  with  an  incredulous  accent  on  the  first  word. 
But  it  was  too  late,  and,  as  Adolph  left,  his  in- 


186      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL  BREEN 

scrutable  eyes  were  lightened  by  a  glimmer  of  tri 
umph. 

But  the  intelligence  he  had  thus  gleaned  soon 
brought  him  mental  disquiet.  If  Constance  and 
Paul  corresponded,  then  she  could  tell  him  about 
the  discovery  of  the  note-book,  and  he  could  advise 
her  how  significant  was  its  pawning,  and  how  best 
this  new  evidence  should  be  used.  Besides,  his 
awakened  passion  whispered,  how  about  himself; 
how  could  he  hope  to  regain  her  favor  if  this  senti 
mental,  milk-and-water  affection  of  hers  for  Paul 
was  continually  stimulated  by  letters  to  and  fro. 
No,  no ;  the  thing  must  be  stopped,  and  stopped  for 
all  time.  Adolph,  however,  was  not  so  simple  or 
so  rash  as  to  entangle  himself  with  the  criminal 
law  by  interfering  with  the  mails.  He  soon  devised 
a  plan  which  accomplished  his  purpose  without 
exposing  him  to  its  legal  consequence. 

Governor  Strain  still  retained  the  nominal  head 
ship  of  the  firm  of  "  Strain  and  Breen."  As  senior 
partner,  he  signed  many  papers  which  Adolph  laid 
before  him,  and  seldom  even  glanced  at  them.  So 
Adolph  prepared  a  letter  to  the  warden  of  Roscoe 
prison,  requesting  that  official  to  send  all  letters 
addressed  by  Paul  Breen  to  Miss  Constance  San 
derson,  and  all  letters  directed  to  Paul  Breen  in  a 
feminine  hand,  to  the  firm  of  Strain  and  Breen,  and 
explained  briefly  mat  it  was  a  "  family  matter," — 


PROFESSOR  TANCREDI  187 

that  the  young  girl  was  becoming  too  much  inter 
ested  in  the  condemned  murderer,  and  the  corre 
spondence  was  harmful  to  both  parties. 

Then,  selecting  a  moment  when  the  Governor 
was  rushed  with  business,  Adolph  placed  the  letter 
among  a  batch  to  be  signed. 

John  Strain's  signature  was  attached  without  a 
glance  at  the  letter's  contents,  and  Adolph  took  the 
first  opportunity  thereafter  to  present  it  in  person 
at  the  prison.  The  warden  was  all  complaisance. 
"  Anything  to  oblige  the  Governor,  of  course,  Mr. 
Breen.  I  know.  A  delicate  matter,  no  doubt. 
Don't  say  a  word.  Letter- writing  does  play  the 
devil  in  prison,  for  a  fact.  The  Governor's  author 
ization  is  more  than  sufficient.  Besides,  all  con 
victs,  on  entering  here,  have  to  give  us  full  dis 
cretion  over  their  mail  —  a  very  necessary  rule,  sir, 
in  view  of  all  the  plotting  that's  going  on." 

Adolph  had  acted  just  in  time.  The  very  first 
letter  of  Constance,  thus  delivered  over  to  him, 
contained  the  story  of  the  finding  of  the  note-book. 
Adolph  read  this  passage  with  the  keenest  curiosity 
and  apprehension. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  Constance  wrote,  "  that  I  am 
doing  wisely  to  bother  you  about  a  little  happening 
that  may  mean  nothing  after  all;  but  Mr.  Twigg 
advises  that  I  should  take  advantage  of  every  trifle 
chance  puts  in  my  way  in  the  hope  that  it  may  lead 


188     THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

to  unravelling  the  mystery  of  your  case.  A  few 
days  ago,  while  Millicent  and  I  were  passing  a 
pawnbroker's,  we  saw  among  the  things  in  the 
window  the  little  note-book  I  gave  you  —  the  purple 
one  with  silver  corners.  We  went  in  and  bought  it. 
Of  course  I  know  you  never  pawned  it,  and  I  am 
trying  in  vain  to  guess  how  it  came  into  the  man's 
hands.  Did  you  ever  have  your  pocket  picked  ?  — 
or  had  you  lost  the  book?  It  seems  to  contain  a 
lot  of  scientific  notes  —  figures,  letters  and  rough 
sketches  of  apparatus,  of  which  I  can  make  nothing. 
But  Mr.  Twigg  says  it  may  lead  to  some  discov 
eries;  and  I  hope,  oh,  I  hope  that  it  may  possibly 
revive  your  memory.  I  shall  await  your  answer 
before  doing  anything  further  about  the  matter, 
nor  will  I  refer  to  it  again  unless  you  wish,  for  I 
wouldn't  trouble  you  for  the  world." 

Adolph  congratulated  himself  upon  his  foresight 
in  interrupting  the  correspondence.  But  the  knowl 
edge  that  the  book  had  been  Paul  Breen's,  and  Con 
stance's  suggestion  that  it  might  stimulate  his  cou 
sin's  latent  recollections  gave  him  deep  uneasiness. 

"If  they  once  find  out  that  the  book  was  pawned 
on  the  very  day  of  the  murder,"  he  mused,  "  and, 
of  all  incomprehensible  things,  in  Edith's  family 
nickname,  there  will  be  trouble.  Besides,  let  Paul 
get  possession  of  it  —  those  fragmentary  notes  may 
start  a  train  of  thoughts  leading  to  an  explosion 


PROFESSOR  TANCREDI  189 

that  will  blow  me  out  of  court  and  him  out  of 
prison.  But  matters  are  safe  for  the  present.  Paul, 
on  not  hearing  from  Constance,  will  conclude  that 
she  has  become  weary  of  him;  and  Constance,  on 
not  hearing  from  Paul,  will  think  that  he  is  pro 
voked  by  her  reference  to  the  note-book.  It  takes 
time  to  work  out  any  such  misunderstanding,  espe 
cially  when  letters  can  only  be  written  once  a 
month.  Meanwhile,  I  think  I  shall  take  advantage 
of  that  Insurance  Merger  matter,  and  see  how  a 
change  of  scene  will  benefit  my  nerves." 

The  long  strain  of  the  campaign,  and  the  worry 
over  the  problem  of  the  note-book,  had  begun  to 
tell  on  Adolph's  iron  constitution.  With  a  smile 
of  contempt  for  himself,  he  recognized  that  he  had 
avoided  seeing  his  partner  since  securing  his  sig 
nature  to  the  warden's  letter,  and  that  he  feared, 
actually  he  feared,  that  his  treachery  in  the  matter 
might  either  have  been  noticed  or  might  in  some 
way  be  detected.  Such  physical  and  mental  weak- 
•ness,  so  repugnant  to  his  own  concept,  could  not 
be  endured ;  he,  therefore,  welcomed  the  important 
insurance  business  which  called  him  from  town  for 
two  or  three  months.  Before  leaving,  however,  he 
decided  that  a  close  watch  should  be  kept  on  Con 
stance. 

Adolph's  experience  in  the  District  Attorney's 
office  had  made  him  acquainted  with  many  shady 


190      THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

characters  —  both  major  and  minor  —  and  he  now 
sent  for  one  of  them,  named  Richard  Naylor,  who, 
he  knew,  had  prudential  reasons  for  being  true  to 
him.  This  man  called  himself  a  "  Private  Detective 
Agency,"  but  was  merely  a  mercenary  scamp,  tol 
erated  by  the  police  because  he  was  now  and  then 
useful  as  a  go-between. 

Adolph's  instructions  were  terse  and  peremptory. 
"  You  will  keep  yourself  informed,"  he  said,  "  of 
the  daily  life  of  this  young  lady,  Miss  Constance 
Sanderson.  So  long  as  she  busies  herself  with 
ordinary  affairs,  well  and  good.  But  if  she  shows 
some  special  interest,  calls  on  the  Governor,  con 
sults  a  lawyer,  or  goes  out  of  town,  for  instance, 
advise  me  'at  once." 

"  I'll  stick  closer  than  a  brother,  and  darker  than 
her  shadow,"  replied  Naylor,  with  a  side-glance  and 
a  cunning  smirk;  and  Adolph  went  away,  satisfied 
that  he  had  left  this  little  matter,  if  not  in  good,  at 
least  in  competent  hands. 

Constance,  not  hearing  from  Paul  at  the  usual 
time,  wrote  again.  Another  delay  followed  and, 
still  hearing  nothing,  she  grew  very  anxious.  She 
wondered  whether  her  letters  had  gone  astray, 
whether  Paul  was  sick,  or  whether  there  could  be 
some  mystery  about  the  book  which  he  did  not  wish 
to  reveal  to  her.  Phineas  Twigg  at  first  advised 
patience.  He  was  well  aware  how  prone  even  the 


PROFESSOR  TANCREDI  191 

most  even  tempered  of  men,  under  prison  restraint, 
were  to  sudden  bursts  of  passion;  and  he  attributed 
the  silence  to  resulting  discipline.  But  when  an 
other  month  passed,  and  still  no  word  came,  he 
changed  his  opinion. 

"  It  is  out  of  the  usual  order  of  things,"  he  said. 
"  If  there  had  been  no  interference  with  events, 
Paul  would  have  answered  by  this  time.  Of  course, 
we  might  write  to  the  warden;  but  he  is  a  busy 
official,  with  a  very  different  view  of  matters  we 
consider  of  vital  importance  —  " 

"  Then  what  shall  we  do  ?  "  Constance  asked. 

"  You  and  Millicent  might  go  and  see  Paul.  I 
could  go  for  you,  but  he  might  not  talk  freely  with 
me.  This  is  one  of  the  emergencies,  my  child,  for 
which  I  advised  you  to  keep  yourself  free." 

"Yes,  let  us  go,"  urged  Millicent;  "it  will  do 
Constance  good.  We  can  then  come  home  by  the 
way  of  Nadonk,  and  stay  a  day  or  so  with  Aunt 
Martha.  I  do  so  want  Constance  to  know  her." 

In  consequence  of  this  family  council,  the  young 
girls  took  a  train  the  next  morning  to  visit  Roscoe 
prison,  as  was  duly  reported  by  the  assiduous  Nay- 
lor  to  Adolph,  who  had  returned  to  town  the  day 
before  owing  to  the  critical  illness  of  his  father. 
The  detective  stated  that  Constance  had  a  satchel 
with  her,  and  Adolph 's  trained  judgment  at  once 
surmised  that  in  it  was  the  silver-bound  note-book, 


192      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

"  I  want  that  satchel,  do  you  understand  ?  "  he  said 
sharply.  Naylor  nodded  and,  an  hour  later,  was 
following  the  two  girls  to  Roscoe. 

It  was  a  bleak,  rainy  afternoon  when  Constance 
and  Millicent  arrived ;  so  they  took  a  cab  and  drove 
to  the  prison.  There,  they  found  it  difficult  to 
secure  an  audience  with  the  warden.  A  clerk  in  the 
office  told  them  he  was  very  busy  —  "  owing  to  an 
escape  of  two  prisoners,  one  a  murderer  and  the 
other  an  habitual  criminal.  What  do  you  ladies 
want,  anyway?" 

"  We  want  to  see  Paul  Breen,"  replied  Constance. 

"  Paul  Breen?  "  cried  the  clerk,  laughing.  "  Why, 
we  all  want  to  see  him.  He  is  one  of  the  men  we're 
after.  He's  skipped." 

"Skipped?" 

"  Yes,  run  away ;  vamoosed ;  cut  stick ;  gone ; 
escaped.  He  and  his  pal  knocked  over  two  visitors, 
put  on  their  togs,  and  were  bowed  out  by  the  Head 
Squeeze  himself." 

"  Paul  escaped  ?  "  Constance  exclaimed.  "  I 
can't  believe  it.  He  would  never  have  done  such  a 
thing." 

"  'Tain't  a  question  of  would ;  it's  a  question  of 
has,  ladies.  If  you  can  find  him,  please  return  him, 
C.  O.  D.  Good  afternoon." 

Constance  and  Millicent  left  the  prison  in  silence, 
not  knowing  what  to  think.  It  was  the  last  thing 


PROFESSOR  TANCREDI  193 

they  would  have  thought  likely.  Constance  was 
overwhelmed.  Why  should  Paul  attempt  to  escape  ? 
She  had  always  pictured  him  as  a  patient  martyr, 
awaiting  deliverance;  and  now  he  was  a  jail- 
breaker,  and  the  "  pal "  of  an  habitual  criminal. 
She  could  not  explain  it.  Millicent  sought  to 
console  her. 

"  Come,  Constance,"  she  insisted  valiantly,  "  you 
can't  blame  him.  He  was  innocent,  and  he  knew 
they  had  no  right  to  keep  him  in  prison.  I  say, 
good  for  him.  I  admire  a  manly  man,  one  who  can 
act;  not  a  narnby-pamby,  passive  nonentity.  Be 
sides,  he  wasn't  in  his  normal  condition  when  he 
was  taken  there,  and  it  may  well  be  that  he  is  far 
worse.  Why,  the  very  sight  of  that  dreadful  place 
is  enough  to  give  one  chronic  dementia.  Let  us 
wait  until  we  know  more." 

But  Constance  had  lowered  her  veil,  and  made 
no  reply. 

At  the  station  they  had  to  wait  about  half  an 
hour  for  their  train.  They  took  a  seat  upon  a 
hard  bench  in  the  waiting-room.  It  was  hours 
since  they  had  eaten,  and  Millicent  proposed  that 
they  should  have  a  light  supper;  and,  when  Con 
stance  declared  that  she  could  not  bear  the  thought 
of  food,  and  showed  by  her  manner  that  she  would 
gladly  be  alone,  went  by  herself  good-naturedly  for 
a  cup  of  tea.  Constance  remained,  absorbed  in  deep 


194     THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

thought.  She  had  hoped  so  much  from  the  journey, 
and  now  her  cares  were  redoubled.  Though  her 
faith  in  Paul  was  unimpaired,  she  realized  what  the 
effect  of  his  flight  must  be  upon  public  opinion. 
Then,  too,  there  was  the  note-book  in  the  satchel 
beside  her,  the  newly  discovered  evidence  which  was 
to  vindicate  and  restore;  what  use  was  it  now? 
So  she  mused  in  deepest  melancholy  —  when  sud 
denly  there  was  a  scuffle  behind  her.  She  rose,  and 
saw  two  men  quarrelling. 

The  younger  of  them  was  a  slim,  handsome  young 
fellow,  of  a  dark  complexion,  bright-eyed,  and  with 
a  military  air.  The  other  was  a  grizzled  scamp,  in 
a  shabby  Prince  Albert  coat,  shoe-string  necktie  and 
dingy  linen  —  Adolph's  "  private  detective,"  Rich 
ard  Naylor.  Seeing  Constance  lost  in  reverie,  he 
had  reached  over  the  back  of  the  bench  and  gently 
lifted  her  satchel.  Then  the  younger  man,  seeing 
the  transaction,  had  descended  upon  him. 

As  Constance  rose,  the  thief  was  forced  back  into 
the  seat.  Then  the  young  man  politely  raised  his 
hat,  and  explained. 

"  I  saw  this  scoundrel  reach  over  and  help  himself 
to  your  satchel,"  he  said.  "  It  is  yours,  isn't  it, 
madam  ? " 

"  Yes,  thank  you,"  Constance  replied.  "  I  am  so 
much  obliged.  I  was  thinking  of  something  else." 

"  Do  you  wish  to  have  him  arrested?  "  the  young 


PROFESSOR  TANCREDI  195 

man  inquired.  Whereupon  the  culprit  made  a  fran 
tic  bolt  for  the  door,  but  in  an  instant  was  seized  by 
the  shoulder  and  whirled  back  into  his  place  appar 
ently  without  an  effort. 

"  Oh,  no,  indeed.  Let  him  go.  I  don't  want  to 
make  any  trouble  for  the  poor  fellow." 

At  this  moment  Millicent  returned,  and  Con 
stance  hastily  related  what  had  happened.  The 
athletic  young  fellow  again  bowed  politely. 

"  You  are  a  manly  man,"  said  Millicent,  with  a 
droll  glance  toward  Constance. 

"  I  am  a  very  proud  one  to  have  your  commen 
dation,"  he  replied. 

"  But  this  person  doesn't  look  like  a  common 
sneak  thief,"  Millicent  suggested,  thoughtfully. 
"  Let  us  find  out  who  he  is.  Remember,  Constance, 
what  father  said.  We  must  be  cautious." 

Naylor  seemed  pleased  by  Millicent's  compliment 
to  his  appearance.  He  fumbled  in  his  pocket  and 
produced  a  business-card.  "  You  are  quite  right, 
young  lady,"  he  said.  "  I  have  made  a  mistake. 
I  am,  as  you  see,  a  private  detective,  and  I  took 
your  friend  here  for  a  party  I  had  been  engaged  to 
pipe.  I  regret  my  mistake  exceedingly ;  "  and  he 
raised  his  napless  hat  with  a  grand  air. 

Millicent  dropped  the  card  disdainfully  from  the 
tips  of  her  fingers.  "  Let  him  go,  I  say,"  she 
declared,  "  if  only  he  will  go  at  once."  And  Naylor 


196     THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

made  haste  to  avail  himself  of  the  permission, 
though  he  shot  back  a  glance  at  the  girl  that  made 
his  ill-favored  face  venomous. 

"  I  don't  think  he  will  annoy  you  further,"  said 
the  young  man,  "  but  I  suppose  he  is  going  south 
on  the  train  with  you,  and  I  don't  quite  trust  him. 
His  business  is  against  him,  you  know.  So,  if  you 
don't  mind,  I  shall  keep  my  eye  on  him  while  on  the 
train.  Permit  me  to  hand  you  my  card,  also." 

The  card  read,  "  James  Tancredi,  Professor  of 
Applied  Therapeutics,  Carteret  College."  Millicent 
placed  it  carefully  in  the  bag  at  her  belt,  with  a 
smile  that  seemed  to  say  that  circumstances  altered 
cases.  Then  the  girls  thanked  him  for  his  offer  of 
assistance,  and  they  separated.  But  Professor  Tan 
credi  took  the  same  car  when  the  train  arrived,  and 
sat  several  seats  back  of  them.  Though  he  was 
soon  convinced  that  the  private  detective  was  not 
aboard,  he  continued  his  respectful  scrutiny,  and, 
when  they  alighted  at  an  intermediate  station, 
where  a  ferry-boat  would  take  them  across  the  river 
to  the  branch  road  running  to  Nadonk,  his  gaze 
followed  them  with  interest  and  admiration. 


CHAPTER    XIV 

IN    A    NEW    WORLD 

IT  was  night,  merciful  night,  that  hides  so  much 
and  has  so  much  to  hide,  when  Paul  Breen  had  been 
brought  to  Roscoe  prison.  He  was  apathetic;  for 
acute  agony  often  works  its  own  relief  by  provoking 
a  conflict  between  the  flesh  and  the  spirit,  in  which 
the  former  wins.  And  so,  he  passed  through  the 
routine  of  admission  an  indifferent  spectator  of 
himself,  rather  than  the  principal  actor  in  an  un- 
heroic  tragedy  of  living  death. 

As  if  in  a  dream,  he  answered  the  required  ques 
tions  regarding  himself  and  his  previous  state,  and 
delivered  over  his  valuables  and  clothing.  As  if  in  a 
dream,  he  listened  to  the  well-meant  assurances  of 
the  deputy. 

"  Say,"  that  official  said,  "  this  isn't  a  prison,  it's 
a  regular  Old  Man's  Home.  Why,  the  only  trouble 
we  ever  have  here  is  raised  by  them  who  want  to 
forfeit  their  good  time;  they're  so  sorry  to  be  goin' 
out.  And  a  gentleman  like  you  —  well,  things  will 
go  as  smooth  as  slidin'  down  a  cellar-door.  We'll 

197 


198     THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

let  you  rest  up  for  a  few  days,  and  then  find  some 
soft  snap  for  you,  in  the  library,  p'raps.  It  don't 
do  to  work  a  lifer,  you  know.  Gittin'  in  the  routine 
is  the  savin'  grace;  it  will  send  time  kitin'  along 
so  fast  that,  before  you  know  you're  cold  from  the 
winter,  you  begin  to  sweat  from  the  summer.  After 
all,  you  got  off  lucky,  damme,  if  you  didn't;  and,  in 
a  few  years,  when  people  have  begun  to  forget,  your 
friends  will  pull  the  strings,  and  the  first  thing  you 
know  you  will  be  pardoned  —  " 

"  Pardoned  ? "  Paul  repeated  dully ;  "  a  man 
should  be  guilty  in  order  to  be  pardoned." 

"  To  be  sure,"  the  deputy  assented  indulgently. 
"  That's  just  what  they  all  say.  I've  been  here 
now,  keeper  and  deputy,  above  twenty  year,  and 
never  onct  have  I  met  a  guilty  man.  Now,  then, 
you  might  come  along  with  me." 

As  if  in  a  dream,  Paul  followed  through  the 
carefully  unlocked  and  relocked  iron  door  into  the 
dimly  lighted  hall,  and  along  the  narrow  wooden 
gallery  on  the  second  tier  of  cells. 

"  You'll  git  fixed  up  in  there  after  a  little,"  said 
the  deputy,  as  he  again  turned  his  key  back  and 
forth,  with  a  dexterous  shove  between.  "  I  give 
you  my  word,  you've  got  the  choice  of  the  place. 
This  is  quality  row,  you  know  —  nothin'  under  ten 
year,  and  only  one  of  him.  Hear  that  snorin'  from 
B  33,  next  door?  He  was  a  slip  of  a  lad  when  he 


IN  A  NEW  WORLD  199 

came  in,  and  he's  got  gray  hair  now.  There's 
nothin'  like  it,  I  tell  you." 

As  if  in  a  dream,  Paul  stood  against  the  grating 
the  live-long  night,  his  hands,  above  his  head,  grasp 
ing  the  bars  in  familiar  posture,  not  noting  the 
tobacco-stained,  white-washed  wall  of  the  corridor 
opposite,  or  the  flickering  gas  jet,  cobweb-festooned, 
that  kept  out  the  dark  but  substituted  only  gloom; 
not  hearing  the  heavy  breathings,  the  groans,  the 
restless  pacings,  the  quarrels  and  struggles,  the 
hideous  curses,  the  more  hideous  laughter,  which 
form  the  commonplace  incidents  of  a  prison  night; 
not  tasting  the  foul,  acrid  air  —  but  seeing  ever 
before  him,  as  if  in  a  beatific  vision,  the  glorified 
face  of  Constance  Sanderson,  embodying  love  and 
trust. 

Some  time  in  the  endless  morning,  after  the  men 
had  marched  out,  Paul  heard,  amid  the  swish  of 
brooms  and  mops  and  the  drip  of  soapy  water,  a 
merry  voice  singing  the  old,  vagabond  refrain  of 
"  Laddy,  faddy,  whack  fal  laddy,"  and,  almost 
against  his  will,  he  listened.  It  was  the  man  clean 
ing  the  gallery  who  sang  in  such  joyous  reckless 
ness  as,  down  on  hands  and  knees,  he  forced  his 
way  backward,  plying  the  brush  vigorously  and 
pulling  the  pail  after  him.  As  he  came  to  the 
outside  of  the  grating,  he  sprang  to  his  feet  and 
stood,  looking  in,  his  bare  and  wet  arms  akimbo. 


200      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

"  Are  you  the  guy  who  kem  in  last  night  ? "  he 
asked. 

"  Yes,"  Paul  answered ;  "  I  was  brought  to  this 
place  last  night." 

"  How  much  did  you  git  ?  " 

"  I  was  sentenced  for  the  term  of  my  natural 
life." 

"  Gee,  but  they  soaked  it  to  you.  Then  you  don't 
want  your  old  clothes,  do  you?  Say,  if  you're 
anx'us  to  make  aminds  for  your  evil  doin's  by  a 
bang-up  good  deed,  jest  give  me  an  order  on  the 
deputy  for  them  duds,  will  you?  I'll  be  goin'  out, 
afore  long,  in  jest  fifty-seven  and  a  yap;  and  I  wud 
like  for  onct  to  be  able  to  teach  the  public  not  to 
trust  to  appearances,  and  be  damned  to  'em." 

"What,  fifty-seven  days?" 

"  Nope,  fifty-seven  mont's." 

"  I'll  think  it  over,"  said  Paul,  smiling  faintly, 
"  since  there  is  no  immediate  hurry.  By  the  way, 
my  friend,  what  is  your  name  ?  " 

"  Them  that  knows  my  qualificatuns  best  calls  me 
Soci'ty  Dan." 

"  Well,  Soci'ty,"  Paul  continued,  "  you  see  that 
all  this  is  very  strange  to  me.  My  head  is  still  in 
a  whirl,  and  yet,  I  do  begin  to  feel  that  it  is  a 
man's  part  not  to  despair.  So,  if  you  will  kindly 
help  me  with  your  practical  advice  to  get  along  as 
easily  and  quietly  as  possible,  I,  on  my  side,  will 


IN  A  NEW  WORLD  201 

gladly  do  all  I  can  for  you;  that  is,  if  there  is  any 
thing  I  can  do." 

"  Annythin',"  repeated  Soci'ty,  slapping  his 
hands  together  in  high  excitement,  "  I  shud  radder 
say  there  wore.  Not  to  mintion  the  clothes  you've 
a'ready  mecl  over  to  me,  nor  the  odd  dough  to  your 
credit  in  the  office,  which  I  wudn't  be  avarse  to 
.  drawin'  on  betimes,  why  there's  the  groceries  you'll 
hev  sent  in,  and  your  reglar  prog,  whin  they  puts 
you  on  'orspital  ratuns,  as  they're  sure  to  do,  and 
your  plug  of  'baccy  each  week,  seein'  as  a  swell  like 
you  don't  chew,  an'  your  cast-off  shoes,  and  p'raps 
them  braces  whin  they've  gone  busted.  Anny 
thin'  ?  —  why,  there's  everything  and  none  too  much, 
too,  whin  you  reckon  how  I'll  fetch  you  a  bran'- 
new,  swamp-grass  mattress,  and  a  rid  and  green 
sprid,  and  the  unly  springs  in  the  jint,  —  sure  the 
dago  on  Tier  A  croaked  easy  on  'em.  And  thin, 
there's  the  riggin'  of  your  curting,  and  the  mindin' 
of  an  old  camp-chair  I  got  off  the  last  banker  thet 
went  out,  and  a  razor  I  sneaked  whin  the  barber 
was  swabbin'  out  the  tubs,  and  a  bottle  of  ile  for 
your  lamp,  and  six  extry  chimleys.  Above  all, 
there's  the  expert  advice  thet  orter  command  a 
fancy  rigger  —  the  many  ways  there  be  of  findun' 
the  soft  side  of  the  hardest  plank.  Life  here,  sir,  is 
like  takin'  castor  ile;  if  you  onct  gulp  her  down 
and  be  done  with  it,  you're  ten  times  better  off  than 


202      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

if  you  backed  and  filled,  and  held  your  nose,  and 
fell  sick  at  your  stommick,  and  yet  had  to  take  it, 
arter  all.  Keep  busy,  I  say,  and  don't  look  back; 
and  you'll  be  your  own  gran'fadder  afore  you  knows 
it.  Say,  you  wudn't  mind  coughin'  up  that  silk 
swipe  around  your  neck,  wud  you,  as  a  sorter  pay 
ment  on  account  ?  " 

This  singular  partnership  worked  well.  Mer 
cenary  as  Soci'ty  undoubtedly  was,  with  a  perpet 
ually  itching  palm,  he  yet  had  a  crude  sense  of 
loyalty,  even  as  he  had  an  acute  sense  of  possible 
advantage.  These  two  feelings  combined  to  make 
him  an  invaluable  guide  through  the  thickets  and 
around  the  ambushes  of  that  strange  country  to 
which  Paul  now  owed  allegiance.  Besides,  Soci'ty 
not  only  liked  but  sympathized  with  the  new-comer, 
recognizing  him,  with  keen  convict  judgment,  as  a 
different  and  superior  type.  No  lot  can  be  harder 
than  that  of  him  who  dares  stalk  in  borrowed  plumes 
in  prison.  On  the  other  hand,  not  in  the  most 
exclusive  court  of  the  world  is  true  gentleness  so 
quickly  admitted  and  so  thoroughly  appreciated. 

Paul,  then,  with  a  resolute  heart,  though  still 
clouded  brain,  devoted  himself  to  the  present  duty. 
He  did  get  busy,  and  he  refused  to  look  back.  The 
easy  work  in  the  library  occupied  him;  but  more, 
its  monotony,  day  by  day,  lulled  him  like  an  opiate. 
He  no  longer  found  the  mornings  interminably 


IN   A   NEW   WORLD  203 

long.  The  regular,  unvarying  stages  of  the  day 
swept  on  like  the  revolutions  of  some  vast  machin 
ery.  Soon  the  weeks  and  even  the  months  began 
to  fall  into  the  same  rapid,  unswerving  advance, 
and,  even  as  the  deputy  had  predicted,  the  cold  of 
winter  was  banished  by  the  warm  of  summer  before 
it  had  been  felt. 

He  was  not  happy,  and  yet  he  was  not  acutely 
miserable.  He  still  was  stunned.  There  is  some 
thing  in  the  inevitableness  of  defeat  that  tranquil 
lizes.  When  the  struggle  is  over,  then  the  van 
quished  may  rest.  Life's  note  was  plaintive, 
attuned  to  tears;  yet,  in  its  reiteration,  there  was 
no  tumult,  no  jar. 

Once  a  month,  as  often  as  the  regulations  allowed, 
there  came  a  letter  from  Constance,  sweet,  serene,  a 
very  part  of  herself.  Without  being  hopeful, 
they  encouraged;  without  promising,  they  assured. 
Why,  then,  should  he  despair?  The  cataclysm  had 
passed;  the  ruin  had  been  wrought.  And  yet  he 
lived;  and  yet  he  was  beloved. 

And  as  Paul,  in  a  way,  became  used  to  the  prison, 
so  did  the  prison  become  used  to  Paul.  He  was  so 
faithful  and  unassuming  in  what  he  did  that  when 
the  one,  inevitable  question  to  a  new  man,  "  What 
did  ye  git  ?  "  had  been  patiently  answered  until  the 
fact  that  he  was  a  "  lifer  "  was  a  very  part  of  his 
personality,  he  was  accepted  by  keeper  and  kept 


204      THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

alike  as  a  feature  of  the  institution.  Convict  curi 
osity  is  as  limited  as  it  is  sharp.  It  constantly 
concerns  itself  with  that  which  impinges  upon 
personal  interest  —  the  fear  that  one  man  may  have 
something  that  another  has  not,  the  envy  of  a 
shorter  term,  of  powerful  friends,  of  influence. 
Thus,  the  extent  of  a  sentence  is  always  eagerly 
sought;  but  the  nature  of  the  crime  is  a  matter  of 
indifference. 

Besides,  something  is  conceded  to  the  supreme 
victim.  The  lifer  is  set  apart,  almost  consecrated 
by  his  misfortune.  No  favor  is  begrudged  him; 
since  all  possible  favors  could  not  make  up  for  hope. 
Thus,  Paul  made  his  own  place  and  held  it;  going 
his  own  way,  almost  exempt  from  discipline,  within 
the  narrow  limits  of  duty  which  he  never  tried  to 
exceed.  His  grating  was  always  open  during  the 
day;  he  had  the  freedom  of  the  hall  until  nine 
o'clock  at  night.  His  quiet,  shadowy  passage  along 
a  gallery,  or  the  "  flagging,"  with  a  basket  of  books 
on  his  arm,  excited  absolutely  no  notice  from  officers 
or  men.  They  both  alike  had  matters  more  inter 
esting,  more  exciting,  with  which  to  concern  them 
selves. 

Then  occurred  a  change  —  the  fatal  break  that 
renders  monotony  futile.  The  first  of  the  month 
came,  the  days  of  the  month  marched  on  and  on, 
the  first  of  the  next  month  came,  with  its  procession 


IN  A  NEW  WORLD  205 

of  days,  derisive  in  its  unswerving  monotony,  and 
yet  there  was  no  letter  from  Constance  Sanderson. 
Paul  sat  in  his  cell,  his  face  in  his  hands,  the  victim 
of  prison-despair. 

The  grating  swung  back  and  forth,  and  a  rough 
hand  was  laid  on  his  shoulder.  "  Here,  this  won't 
do,  not  a  little  bit,"  said  Soci'ty's  husky  voice; 
"  there's  jest  wan  t'ing  left  to  do  whin  you  begins 
mopin',  and  thet  is  to  be  measured  for  a  rough  box. 
I  t'ought  you  was  continted  in  knowin'  thet  nawthin' 
wuss  cud  happen  you." 

"  Is  it  nothing,"  Paul  asked,  "  to  have  the  one 
faithful  friend  desert  you?" 

"  We  don't  reckon  it  much  here,"  replied  Soci'ty 
imperturbably.  "  We  ginerally  calkilate  about 
t'ree  mont's  for  a  sweetheart ;  six  mont's  for  a  wife, 
especially  a  young  and  good-lookin'  wan ;  an'  a  full 
year  for  a  mudder.  That  let's  you  out  all  around, 
don't  it,  sir?  Hum,  I  t'ought  so.  Well,  thin,  the 
t'ing  to  do  is  to  try  to  int'rest  strangers  in  your  sad 
case.  They  allus  believe  more  than  relatuns; 
they  know  less,  you  see.  By  the  way,  where 
were  you  tried;  some'eres  up  the  State,  wasn't 
it?" 

"  At  Hamlin,"  answered  Paul,  responding  to  the 
impetus  of  a  direct  question,  though  oblivious  to 
what  had  been  said. 

The  first  glimmer  of  a  surprising,  an  impossible, 


206     THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

idea  narrowed  Soci'ty's  eyes.  "  Queer,  I  didn't 
come  acrost  you  in  the  pig,"  he  reflected;  "  though 
they  didn't  give  me  breathin'  time  for  that  matter. 
Let  me  see.  Who  was  it  you  scoffed?  Your  wife, 
wasn't  it?  " 

"  No ;  they  said  it  was  my  sister." 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  rapped  her  over  the  head,  didn't 
you,  whin  you  was  hot'  on  the  booze  ?  " 

"  No,  no;  "  and  Paul  wrung  his  hands.  "  A  little 
girl,  a  dear,  little  girl,  though  I  recollect  I  never 
did  love  her  as  I  should.  There  was  a  railway 
accident,  and  her  body  was  found  in  a  trunk.  They 
said  I  must  have  shipped  it." 

"  In  an  old  leather  trunk,  wit'  brass  knobs,  you 
don't  mean?  " 

"  Yes,  it  was  my  trunk;  I  did  not  deny  it." 

"  Thin,  thin,  be  the  Power  of  Gawd,  I'm  the  lad 
to  prove  an  alibi  for  you.  She  was  far  from  dead, 
so  she  was,  whin  I  sneaked  her  into  the  car,  and 
settled  her  so  cozy-like  aginst  that  self-same  old 
skate  of  a  trunk  thet  she  wint  off,  she  did,  into 
beautyus  sleep.  '  It's  Paul's  trunk,'  says  she,  as 
pleased  as  if  she  hed  jest  found  a  pet  kitten.  Sind 
for  the  warden,  sind  for  the  old  man,  to  onct,  Mr. 
Breen.  I'll  swear  to  the  trut'  of  it  on  a  stack  of 
Bibles  as  high  as  a  church.  If  iver  there  was  a  case 
for  exicutive  climency,  for  full,  unadulterated  ris- 
toratum  and  parding,  yours  is  the  wan." 


IN  A  NEW  WORLD  207 

Bewildered  and  shaken  by  the  return  of  hope, 
Paul  sent  for  the  warden,  and  told  the  story  as 
related  to  him  by  Soci'ty.  That  high  officer  shook 
his  head  and  looked  annoyed. 

"  So  you  have  got  the  fever,  have  you,  Breen  ?  " 
he  said,  —  "  and  lost  no  time  about  it  either.  I 
know  you  think  you  have  reason  to  be  dissatisfied, 
of  late.  Well,  reduce  the  man's  statement  to  wri 
ting,  if  you  like,  and  I  will  have  it  sworn  to  and 
forwarded  to  the  Governor.  But  I  warn  you  fairly 
not  to  expect  much.  Soci'ty  is  a  notorious  liar, 
besides  being  an  habitual  criminal.  He  is  disquali 
fied  from  testifying,  in  the  first  place,  and  no  one 
would  believe  him  if  he  could  testify,  in  the  second. 
I  thought  you  had  made  up  your  mind  to  take  your 
medicine  like  a  man.  But  try  it  on,  now  that  you've 
got  it  in  your  head;  you  will  never  rest  easy  until 
you  do.  They  say  this  new  reform  Governor  of 
ours  gives  personal  attention  to  the  smallest  matter; 
but,  on  the  other  hand,  he's  a  crackerjack  of  a 
lawyer,  as  you  have  reason  to  know,  and  up  to  all 
slick  games.  I'll  send  the  writing  materials  to  you, 
and  much  good  may  it  do  you." 

So  Paul  drafted  the  statement  carefully,  and 
Soci'ty  subscribed  it  with  his  mark,  and  attested  it 
with  his  oath ;  taking  occasion  of  his  visit  to  the 
office  for  such  purpose  to  strip  the  desk,  at  which 
he  was  permitted  to  sit  during  the  difficult  operation 


208     THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

of  affixing  his  sign-manual,  of  all  the  pens,  pencils, 
rubber-bands  and  stamps  that  it  contained. 

Then  followed  an  endless  time  of  suspense. 
Monotony,  routine,  habit  —  all  were  powerless 
against  the  nervous  expectancy  that  possessed  Paul. 
He  could  not  eat  or  sleep.  He  could  not  execute 
correctly  the  simplest  duty.  The  men  noted  his 
absorption,  and,  tapping  their  foreheads  signifi 
cantly,  said  he  was  "  going  off  his  nut."  Every 
fibre  of  his  being  was  intent  on  the  creak  of  the  iron 
door  leading  into  the  office,  which  might  herald  the 
messenger  of  his  release. 

One  evening,  as  Paul  was  standing,  so  watchful, 
so  alert,  at  the  grating  of  his  cell,  the  creak  of  the 
iron  door  resounded.  There  were  heavy  foot-steps 
on  the  wooden  corridor,  and,  darting  ahead  of 
them,  came  the  tap,  tap,  from  cell-wall  to  cell-wall, 
of  convict  telegraphy,  announcing  the  approach  of 
the  old  man,  the  warden.  Slowly,  almost  majes 
tically,  surrounded  by  the  aura  of  unlimited  power, 
the  great  man  strode  along,  with  high  hat  on  one 
side  of  his  head,  and  big  cigar  out  of  the  other  side 
of  his  mouth,  "and  long  black  coat  flapping  like  a 
robe  of  state.  He  stopped  in  front  of  Paul's 
grating.  "  Here,  Breen,"  he  said,  drawing  a  long, 
blue  envelope  from  his  pocket ;  "  It's  just  what  I 
expected ;  "  and,  with  a  shrug  of  his  shoulders,  he 
strode  away  again. 


IN   A   NEW  WORLD  209 

Pale,  gasping,  yet  hoping  against  hope,  Paul  tore 
the  letter  apart.  It  was  written  in  the  Governor's 
own  hand,  with  that  careful,  almost  painful  particu 
larity  for  which  he  was  already  celebrated.  It  set 
forth  that  the  alleged  facts  submitted  were  not, 
considering  their  source,  sufficient  to  justify  any 
executive  interference  with  the  judgment  of  the 
Court.  It  was  signed,  "  John  Strain,  Governor." 

Then,  all  the  wrongs,  indignities,  griefs,  pas 
sions,  broke  their  patient  restraints  and  raged  at 
will.  John  Strain,  John  Strain;  that  burly,  red- 
faced  man,  so  prejudiced,  so  unfair,  so  bitterly,  so 
personally  hostile.  John  Strain,  John  Strain;  who 
had  shaken  his  fist  in  his  face,  denouncing  him  as 
the  vilest  coward,  the  most  diabolical  murderer  on 
earth.  John  Strain,  John  Strain ;  who  had  wrestled 
with  the  jury,  as  if  for  a  prize,  persuading,  con 
straining,  forcing  them  to  an  adverse  verdict.  John 
Strain,  John  Strain;  the  ambitious,  the  merciless; 
who  now,  in  the  plenitude  of  power,  when  he  had 
gained  all  things  he  had  hoped  to  gain  through  his 
rabid  prosecution,  was  even  more  ambitious,  more 
merciless,  still.  "  May  God  everlastingly  damn 
John  Strain,"  prayed  Paul;  as  he  hurled  himself 
back  and  forth  against  the  narrow  stone  walls. 

The  hideous  prison  night  wore  away.  Through 
the  upper  part  of  one  of  the  high  corridor  windows 
a  roseate  ray  of  sunlight  shot  aslant.  It  drew  nearer 


210      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

and  nearer  along  the  wooden  gallery,  not  as  the 
warden  had  strode,  but  as  an  angel  might  hover, 
until  it  shone  full  in  Paul's  face,  a  messenger  from 
the  beautiful  world  without.  As  if  listening  to  a 
silent  voice,  Paul  interpreted  its  meaning.  Yes; 
there  was  beauty,  there  was  life  in  the  world  with 
out;  why  should  he  not  have  them?  Was  it  rea 
sonable,  was  it  right,  that  he  should  remain  in  this 
awful  place  until  he  went  mad  and  died  by  his  own 
hands  ?  No,  no !  They  had  taken  home,  position, 
property,  character,  from  him.  They  had  made  his 
name  a  by-word  and  a  hissing.  Honor  was  gone, 
hope  was  gone,  love,  alas,  had  proved  recreant;  yet 
still  he  lived.  He  had  youth,  strength,  education; 
why  should  he  not  pit  them  against  the  crude, 
brutish  force  of  his  taskmaster?  Paul  opened  his 
arms  to  the  morning  light,  as  if  he  would  embrace 
it.  "I  will,"  he  vowed;  "I  will!" 

Later  in  the  day,  when  Soci'ty  managed  to  slip 
in  unobserved,  eager  for  the  news,  Paul  asked 
feverishly :  — "  Will  you  help  me,  Soci'ty,  to 
escape?  Will  you  go  out  with  me  into  the  world, 
far,  far,  away?  " 

"  Will  I?  "  responded  Soci'ty  easily,  as  if  invited 
to  some  agreeable  function.  "  Will  I  eat  chicking, 
or  drink  rum,  whin  I  gits  the  chanct?  Oh,  no;  I 
guess  not ;  unly  with  bot'  feet.  Why,  there's  every- 
thin'  to  win,  and  nawthin'  .to  lose  in  sech  a  deal. 


IN   A   NEW   WORLD  211 

If  we  gits  away  there's  no  tellin'  what  a  reg'lar 
gent  like  you,  wit'  hull  bunches  of  friends  to  be 
touched,  won't  do  for  me;  while,  if  I'm  pinched, 
they  kin  unly  bring  me  back  to  these  famil'ar  scenes 
of  long  ago.  Try  me,  try  me ;  as  the  fat  said  to  the 
fryin'-pan." 

"But  how,  when?"   Paul  demanded. 

"  Ssh !  "  Soci'ty  hissed,  with  that  peculiar  convict 
signal  of  warning  so  universally  used  in  prisons,  as 
he  drew  over  the  curtain ;  "  here  comes  the  deputy, 
wit'  a  gang  of  visitors." 

It  was  significant  of  the  state  of  Paul's  mind  how 
quickly  this  incident  turned  it  from  the  one  subject 
upon  which  it  had  been  concentrated.  "  The 
brutes,"  he  muttered,  "  the  low,  curious  brutes,  who 
find  pleasure  in  witnessing  the  mortification,  the 
disgrace,  the  suffering  of  their  fellows.  If  they 
only  knew,  Soci'ty,  if  they  only  knew  the  impulses 
they  rouse  as  they  gape  through  the  shops,  how 
rapidly  they  would  seek  a  safer  place.  I  don't  blame 
the  men,  indeed,  I  don't,  any  more  than  I  blame 
Shylock  when  he  asked,  '  Hath  not  a  Jew  eyes  — ' : 

"Shylock?"  Soci'ty  interrupted,  "an'  who  was 
he?" 

"  A  character  in  '  The  Merchant  of  Venice,'  a 
Jew." 

"  Nope,  you're  wrong  there ;  not  on  your  life.  I 
never  heerd  of  a  Jew  bein'  shy  annythin'." 


212      THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

"There  they  go,"  Paul  raged  on,  unheeding; 
"  smug  and  satisfied,  dressed  in  their  best,  working 
a  cheap  public  show  to  the  uttermost.  Damn  them, 
damn  them  all,  I  say  —  " 

"  Ssh !  "  Soci'ty  warned  again,  his  eyes  shining 
with  sudden  inspiration.  "  Don't  queer  our  luck  by 
draggin'  down  cusses  on  them.  It's  under  kiver  of 
some  sech  push  as  this  thet  we  must  work  our  way 
out" 


CHAPTER    XV 

THE    MISSING    PAIR 

SOCI'TY  balanced  himself  precariously  on  the 
stool,  his  hands  around  his  knees,  which  were  drawn 
up  nearly  to  his  chin.  "  The  fat  keeper  down  in 
the  bat'-hus  was  a-tellin'  me,"  he  said  reflectively, 
"  thet  the  State  Boord  of  Charity  wud  make  their 
annooal  wisit  nex'  Toosda'.  In  the  wuds  of  the 
poet,  '  Thim's  our  puddin'.' '  And  he  rocked  back 
and  forth  like  a  Chinese  idol. 

"  I  wish  you  would  explain  what  you  mean,"  Paul 
replied  anxiously. 

"  It's  all  as  clear  as  a  babby's  ricord,  whin  onct 
you  understand,"  Soci'ty  continued.  "  You  see 
there  are  doin's  and  no  mistake  whin  the  State 
Boord  swings  around.  The  aldermen  and  odder 
notor'us  city  offic'als  attind  thim ;  there's  a  blow-out 
in  the  office,  wit'  all  kinds  of  jig-water  for  the 
inner  man,  and  plinty  of  cold  fodder  to  hold  it 
down.  Thin,  the  inspectun  begins,  and  it's  no  won 
der  they're  surprised  by  the  number  here,  for  most 
of  'em  see  double.  In  straight  and  solemn  percessun 
they  march  t'roo  the  shops,  thet  is,  as  straight  as 

213 


214      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

they  kin,  and  as  solemn  as  they  don't  feel,  keepin' 
togedder,  wit'  two  privileged  exceptuns.  I  hev' 
allus  noticed  a  pair  of  old  poppy-guys  dodgin' 
around  the  galleries,  and  nosin'  into  cells,  without 
iver  askin'  by  your  leave,  and  no  wan  a-sayin'  of 
them,  nay.  I  remimber  a  year  ago  they  didn't  jine 
the  odders  until  the  wery  last  of  'em  was  passin' 
t'roo  the  office-dure  to  disperse  to  their  hum,  and 
miditate  on  their  good  luck  in  bein'  allowed  to  do 
so.  Now,  what  they  did  thin,  we  kin  do  this  year 
in  their  stid.  Do  you  drop  ?  " 

"  I  think  so,"  answered  Paul  uncertainly.  "  But 
who  are  they,  and  why  is  such  latitude  accorded  to 
them?" 

"  Loungertude,  I  shud  say,"  suggested  Soci'ty 
with  nice  discrimination,  "  for  they  lounge  around 
iverywhere,  an'  in  a  big  cuccle.  But  I  can't  mostly 
tell  what  is  their  graft;  somethin'  in  the  false- 
pertinces  line,  I  t'ink;  they  calls  'em  a  hard 
name  —  " 

"  Penologists  ?  "  Paul  asked  smilingly. 

"  Nope ;  thim  fellers  never  do  anny  inspectun, 
they  knows  it  all  without.  But  it's  somethin'  arter 
thet  style,  beginnin'  wit'  a  P,  all  right,  all  right  —  " 

"  Philanthropists  ?  " 

"  You  called  the  tun.  Thim  thet  gives  away 
nawthin'  gratootus,  excipt  adwice." 

"  But  how  —  " 


THE  MISSING  PAIR  215 

"  How  ?  Why,  we'll  inviggle  'em  wan  be  wan 
into  this  cell;  neck  'em,  gag  'em,  bind  'em,  strip 
'em ;  git  into  their  clothes  and  onto  their  curves,  and 
out  we  goes,  kitun'.  That's  how." 

"  It's  a  desperate  chance,"  Paul  reflected. 

"  A  man  died  of  old  age  onct,"  retorted  Soci'ty 
sagely,  "  while  waitun'  for  a  chanct  thet  wasn't 
des'prit." 

"  But  their  appearance ;  can  we  hope  to  simu 
late  —  " 

"  Wan  is  tall  and  slight,  and  the  odder  is  short 
and  stout,  which  fits  us  like  a  slop-shop.  I'll  rig  up 
oakum  whiskers  arter  their  fash'un,  and  there's  no 
trouble  about  sportun'  their  goggles,  is  there  ?  Well, 
thin,  all  the  rist  is  but  a  matter  of  front,  like 
philant'ro'py  itself,  and  be  damned  to  it;  and  we  kin 
stimelate  as  much  as  you  like,  whin  we're  under 
kiver,  thet  is,  if  we  have  the  price." 

"  True,"  mused  Paul,  "  we  must  have  money ; 
without  it  our  confinement  when  free  would  be 
even  more  rigorous;  we  should  be  bound  hand  and 
foot.  I  hate  to  make  the  sacrifice;  but  I  think,  I 
want  to  think,  that  she  would  wish  me  to  do  so. 
Couldn't  we  do  something  with  this,  Soci'ty?  It 
was  my  mother's.  I  have  managed  to  keep  it  hid 
—  even  when  most  confused  in  mind,  something 
seemed  to  tell  me  to  do  so."  And  he  drew  from 
his  breast  a  ring. 


216     THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

"  Di'monds,"  cried  Soci'ty,  with  bulging  eyes, 
"  Di'monds  in  a  prison ;  oh,  my  Gawd !  Well,  I 
hev'  heerd  they're  found  sometimes  in  the  mud. 
Say,  since  so  much  depinds  on  the  ring,  don't  you 
t'ink  I'd  better  take  care  of  it  for  you?  " 

"  Very  well ;  you  may  act  as  Treasurer  of  our 
joint  enterprise.". 

Soci'ty  stretched  out  his  hand  avidly,  and  then 
drew  it  back  with  reluctance.  Cupidity,  cunning 
and  shame  mingled  curiously  on  his  face.  "  Tris- 
urer,"  he  repeated,  "  We've  had  Trisurers  here  and 
a  plipty;  but  I  cud  double-discount  the  lot  of  'em 
wit'  me  right  duke  tied  behind  me.  At  the  front 
dure  receivin',  be  the  back  dure  leavin' ;  which  is 
po'try,  damned  if  it  ain't,  though  quite  unintinded. 
Nope;  it  won't  do;  we  must  start  square  at  all 
ewents.  Put  it  back  —  put  it  back  quick ;  "  and, 
with  a  gesture  of  sublime  self-abnegation,  he  hurried 
away. 

The  succeeding  days  were  shadowy  and  unreal 
to  Paul  Breen.  He  roused  when  Soci'ty  came  with 
reports  of  progress,  only  to  lapse  again  into  lethargy 
when  he  went.  After  his  one  fierce  burst  of  rage 
against  John  Strain,  something  had  seemed  to  snap 
within  him;  and  now  he  smiled,  as  he  recalled  the 
passion,  wondering  dully  that  he  had  thought  it 
worth  while.  He  slept  much  of  the  time,  traveling 
in  his  dreams  over  vast  expanses  of  strange,  desert 


THE  MISSING  PAIR  217 

country,  alone,  always  alone.  When  he  waked,  a 
sense  of  this  remoteness,  this  solitude,  remained 
with  him,  rendering  the  past  vague,  and  the  present 
and  future  uninteresting.  The  contrast  between 
him  and  Soci'ty  was  marked,  the  latter  being  almost 
wild  with  a  nervous  exultation,  which  found  vent 
in  a  thousand  extravagancies.  To  Soci'ty's  simple 
convict-imagination,  the  escape  would  be  the  open 
gate  to  an  Elysium  of  material  joys.  He  refused 
to  consider  the  possibility  of  dangers,  privation  and 
suffering.  Paul,  too,  gave  such  a  contingency  no 
thought;  but  only  because  he  was  indifferent  to  it. 
He  accepted  in  good  faith  Soci'ty's  suggestions, 
determined  to  stand  by  him  loyally ;  but  the  craving 
for  liberty  had  departed  as  quickly  as  it  had  come. 
And  so,  this  strangely  mated  pair  awaited  the 
execution  of  their  plot,  the  one  acquiescent,  the 
other  with  an  earnestness  at  once  gay  and  fero 
cious. 

At  length  Tuesday  came,  and  the  unexpected 
permeated  the  prison,  from  the  brand-new  clothing 
allotted  for  the  day  to  the  men  most  in  view,  to  the 
superior  quality  of  meat  which  the  cooks  were 
directed  to  stew  in  the  surprised  caldrons.  Under 
the  drastic  directions  of  the  deputy,  the  hallmen 
plied  mop,  broom  and  brush ;  and  filth  retreated  to 
its  corners,  dismayed,  but  not  vanquished.  For  one 
day,  at  least,  the  prison  put  its  best  foot  forward, 


218      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

even  though,  before  night,  it  would  surely  draw  it 
back  again. 

The  noon-hour  came  and  went.  The  lines 
marched  up  to  their  dinner  and  back  to  the  shops, 
with  many  a  comment,  low  but  deep,  on  the  festiv 
ities  so  near  and  yet  so  far.  The  main  hall  was 
silent  and  deserted  save  for  the  fat  keeper,  ster- 
torously  dreaming  the  hours  away  in  his  great 
chair  by  the  grating  to  the  yard.  On  gallery  B, 
Paul  and  Soci'ty  crouched  breathlessly  behind  the 
flimsy  calico  curtain  of  the  cell  —  the  parapher 
nalia  of  their  plot  spread  out  in  readiness  on  the 
bunk. 

The  office-door  creaked,  and  the  cavernous  hall 
resounded  with  ejaculation  and  laughter  and  the 
press  of  feet.  The  inspection  had  begun.  The 
visitors  gazed  up  to  the  dizzy,  dusty  heights  of  the 
topmost  tier,  and  asked  one  another  jestingly  how 
they  would  like  to  be  up  there.  Then  the  huddle, 
red-faced,  vociferous,  disorderly,  surged  through 
the  grating  out  into  the  yard.  The  fat  keeper 
saluted  automatically;  and  then  settled  back  to  his 
reward  of  rest. 

Silent  again  was  the  great  hall,  but  no  longer 
deserted.  Two  strange  figures  in  loose  black  gar 
ments,  their  superabundant  whiskers  sticking  out 
in  all  directions  like  tentacles  of  curiosity,  had  lin 
gered  behind.  With  broad,  soft  hats  pulled  down 


THE  MISSING  PAIR  219 

over  their  big,  flaring  spectacles,  and  note-books  in 
hand,  they  sprang  eagerly  up  the  narrow,  winding 
stairway.  While  the  short  and  stout  one  paused  to 
examine  the  lever  at  the  end  of  the  structure, 
whereby  all  the  cells  could  be  secured  in  one  move 
ment,  the  tall  and  thin  one  sauntered  along  the 
second  gallery,  peering  into  each  cell  through  the 
bars,  and  setting  down  the  pitiably  sparse  belong 
ings  like  one  making  an  inventory  of  the  catacombs. 
He  came  to  B  31,  noting  with  gratified  surprise 
that  this  grating  was  ajar.  He  pushed  aside  the 
flimsy  calico  curtain;  he  entered. 

There  was  a  strangulated,  agonized  gasp,  as  a 
handful  of  tobacco-dust  struck  the  intruder  full  in 
the  face.  Strong  hands  forced  even  the  strength  to 
cough  from  his  throat,  while  deft  fingers,  with  the 
rapidity  of  a  revolving  shaft,  stripped  off  his  seemly 
raiment.  In  another  moment,  gagged  and  trussed, 
he  was  thrust  into  the  narrow  space,  under  the  bunk, 
and  wadded  in  with  an  old  blanket,  there  to  reflect 
that  there  were  stranger  things,  in  hell,  at  least, 
than  were  comprised  in  his  poor  philosophy. 

Soci'ty  donned  the  flaring  spectacles,  and  pulled 
the  broad,  soft  hat  down  over  them ;  then,  sticking 
out  his  whiskered  chin  from  the  grating,  he  solemnly 
waved  a  black  glove  to  the  short  and  stout  man  by 
the  lever.  The  latter  responded  with  alacrity,  like 
one  anticipating  an  intellectual  feast.  He  pushed 


220     THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

aside  the  flimsy  calico  curtain;  he  entered.  And 
his  anticipations  were  more  than  realized;  for  he 
met  the  fate  of  his  predecessor. 

"A  repeater,"  reflected  Soci'ty;  "sure  the  fust 
good  tun  did  deserve  anodder." 

And  the  fat  keeper  moved  luxuriously  in  his  great 
chair  down  on  the  flagging  by  the  gateway  to  the 
yard;  for  already,  in  his  dreams,  had  the  long  hours 
of  duty  expired,  and  again  he  was  monarch  of  all 
he  surveyed  in  the  corner  saloon,  telling  how  things 
were  done. 

Paul  had  executed  his  part  with  the  lifeless  pre 
cision  of  a  machine;  but  now,  when  nothing  re 
mained  but  to  await  the  return  of  the  visitors,  he 
sat,  a  queer  figure  in  the  strange  disguise,  which 
somehow  seemed  to  fit  his  mood.  Again  that  sense 
of  remoteness  and  solitude  oppressed  him;  again, 
he  was  far  away,  amid  endless  expanses  of  desert, 
alone,  hopelessly  alone.  He  was  so  wrapped  up  in 
this  visionary  obsession  that  he  was  utterly  un 
mindful  of  his  companion,  which  was  just  as  well 
for  his  peace  of  conscience. 

For  Soci'ty  was  not  absorbed  in  the  remote  and 
visionary;  the  present  duty,  close  at  hand,  was 
enough  for  him.  Having  emptied  the  contents  of  a 
fat  wallet  into  various  pockets,  he  crept  behind 
Paul,  and,  with  the  deft,  delicate  fingers  of  an 
expert,  filched  another  wallet,  full  as  fat,  from  the 


THE  MISSING  PAIR  221 

long  black  coat  in  which  the  tall  thin  man  had  once 
been  so  discreetly  clad.  "  Whin  wan  has  been 
brung  up  on  the  milk  of  honesty,"  he  mused,  as  he 
stowed  away  the  deliciously  crackling  bills  with  the 
prudent  judgment  of  a  financier,  "  'tis  jest  as  well 
to  keep  from  him  the  strong  drink  of  graft." 

An  hour  passed.  The  weather,  which  had  been 
cloudy,  now  settled  into  a  heavy  rain,  driven  by  a 
bleak  wind,  and  darkening  the  day.  Less  red-faced 
and  vociferous,  but  more  disordered,  the  huddle  of 
visitors  hurried  up  from  the  shops,  their  clothing 
and  ardor  alike  dampened.  They  stamped  along 
the  flagging,  by  the  fat  keeper,  dazedly  saluting,  and 
crowded  through  the  creaking  office-door,  anxious 
to  get  home  before  what  was  bad  should  become 
worse.  Only  the  two  philanthropists  preserved  their 
normal  dignity,  and  they  leisurely  brought  up  the 
rear,  discussing  learnedly  the  various  phases  of 
what  they  had  seen.  As  they  reached  the  front 
door,  however,  the  short  and  stout  one  darted  back, 
and  snatched  an  ancient  blue  umbrella  from  the  rack. 
"  I  should  feel  lost  without  it,"  he  explained  in 
a  high,  cracked  voice,  as  dry  as  the  crumbs  of 
charity. 

"  A  queer  pair,"  said  the  warden,  after  he  had 
bowed  them  out,  and  double-locked  the  door. 

"  Queer,  but  all  there,  just  the  samee,"  added  the 
clerk.  "  Did  you  see  the  credentials  they  brought 


222     THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

from  our  new  Governor?  He  doesn't  do  a  thing 
but  take  a  whole  lot  of  stock  in  them." 

Meanwhile,  the  two  philanthropists  proceeded 
sedately  down  the  street  and  around  the  corner  until 
they  were  cut  off  from  the  view  of  the  prison. 
"  Now,"  said  Soci'ty  sharply,  "  hang  on  to  my  arm, 
and  let's  see  how  fast  you  kin  scud  along  under  a 
blue  umbrelly.  Act  alive,  man,  for  Gawd's  sake, 
even  if  you  can't  look  alive.  In  ten  minutes  we'll 
be  safe ;  "  and  Paul  clung  to  him  instinctively,  and 
yet  with  the  aloofness  of  a  somnambulist,  as  he 
darted  through  the  side-streets,  cleared  of  observers 
by  the  storm,  and  finally  down  an  alley,  leading  to 
the  river. 

In  less  than  an  hour,  Paul  and  Soci'ty  stood  on  a 
wooden  point  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  watch 
ing  the  skiff  which  had  carried  them  over  disappear 
in  the  mist. 

"  Thet's  what  a  little  ready  dough,  jidic'usly 
applied,  kin  do,"  said  Soci'ty. 

"But  where  did  you  get  it?"  Paul  asked,  his 
faculties  quickened  by  surprise.  "  I  still  have  my 
ring." 

"  The  leg-pullin'  of  thim  old  guys  was  so  aisy," 
Soci'ty  replied,  "  thet  I  might  say  it  wore  a  legacy." 

It  is  doubtful  whether  this  explanation  would 
have  been  satisfactory  to  Paul's  nice  sense  of  honor, 
changed  and  afflicted  though  he  was  by  the  mental 


THE  MISSING  PAIR  223 

shock  of  the  explosion,  the  long  strain  of  the  trial, 
the  agonizing  suspense  and  the  raging  despair, 
resulting  from  his  application  for  justice  to  the 
Governor,  and  now  the  exposure  of  storm  and  cold 
following  upon  the  sensitiveness  of  close  confine 
ment.  But,  of  a  sudden,  a  series  of  shrill  screams 
swept  over  the  river  on  the  heavy  air.  It  was  the 
prison-whistle  sounding  an  alarm.  Soci'ty  shook 
his  fist  at  the  other  side.  "  Oh,  you  have  found  two 
pigs  in  a  poke,  have  yer !  "  he  taunted ;  "  well,  thet's 
all  you  will  find,  glory  be." 

"  They  will  follow,  they  will  take  us  back  to  the 
stench,  the  filth,  the  horror  of  living,"  Paul  moaned. 

"  There'll  hev'  to  be  manny  a  shuffle  of  a  big 
deck  of  doubts  and  uncertainties,"  encouraged 
Soci'ty,  "  afore  they  draw  this  pair.  Jest  lean  on 
my  arm,  old  man,  and  amble  along  at  yer  own  gait, 
as  if  out  for  a  stroll  in  the  woodland.  This  is  a 
barren  country,  over  here,  remember,  with  a  square 
mile  or  so  of  mountain  and  trees  for  ivery  inhab 
itant.  Now  I  know  a  bank  where  the  wild  times 
used  to  grow,  more's  the  pity,  an'  manny  of  'em 
I've  had  there;  the  fav'rit  round-up  in  the  spring 
for  all  the  fly  hoboes  and  lob-lolly  road-boys,  whin 
the  chicking  wud  brile  to  a  tun  over  the  blazin'  logs, 
and  the  can  of  mixed  wud  rewolve  to  unceasun  story 
and  chune.  It's  allus  the  way  in  this  mortooal 
existence;  the  softer  the  snap,  the  sooner  the  heat 


224     THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

of  human  passions  milts  it  away.  Wan  night, 
Dutch  Peter  was  stuck  for  fair  —  he  tuk  the  dreen- 
ings  out  of  his  order  —  an',  arter  he  was  planted 
safe,  wit'  an  impty  kag  for  his  bier,  the  boys  give 
the  old  place  the  go-by.  They  say  he  walks,  and 
mebbe  he  dooes;  he  was  well  used  to  the  habit." 

And,  as  they  plodded  on  through  the  wet  and 
mire,  Soci'ty  told  more  about  the  old  freight-car, 
left  in  the  heart  of  the  wilderness  years  before, 
when  an  ill-considered  project  for  the  building  of 
a  railroad  had  been  abandoned.  Its  existence,  he 
said,  was  absolutely  unknown  to  the  few  and  scat 
tered  charcoal-burners  who  constituted  the  inhab 
itants  of  the  region;  while  superstitious  fear,  with 
the  flaming  sword  of  imagination,  kept  the  tramps 
away.  There,  it  was  his  plan,  they  should  lie  for  a 
few  days,  until  the  hue  and  cry  had  died  away ;  and 
then,  he  would  venture  forth,  first  to  buy  suitable 
clothing,  and  then  to  pawn  the  diamond  ring. 

And  Paul  listened  at  first,  stimulated  by  the 
agitation  of  flight,  but  gradually  fatigue  and  disease 
combined  to  overthrow  his  consciousness.  He  no 
longer  heard  his  companion's  cheery  voice ;  nor  felt 
the  support  of  his  stout  arm.  Again  he  was 
traversing  endless  expanses  of  desert,  alone,  hope 
lessly  alone.  And  when,  at  last,  they  reached  their 
destination,  and  Soci'ty  swinging  open  the  rickety 
door,  lifted  him  within,  he  fell  on  his  face  and  lay 


THE  MISSING  PAIR  225 

silent,  unknowing,  sodden  with  wet,  burning  with 
fever,  an  object  for  tears  and  the  tenderest  minis 
trations. 

Soci'ty  did  what  he  could.  Presently  a  fire  was 
blazing  on  a  hearth  of  stone,  under  an  old  stove 
pipe.  In  the  morning  he  made  a  circuit  of  many 
miles,  and  brought  back  quinine,  food  and  drink. 
But  the  money  was  going  rapidly;  the  vagabond 
instincts  were  tugging  at  his  breast.  Why  should 
he  delay  with  this  dying  man ;  was  there  any  one  on 
earth  who  would  do  as  much  for  him?  Through 
Paul's  clothing  he  could  fancy  the  blaze  of  the 
diamonds,  and,  in  their  light,  he  saw  himself  the 
centre  of  a  riotous  crew,  scattering  crisp  bills  with 
lavish  hands,  while  the  bottles  cracked  and  the 
smoke  hung  thick  and  the  girls  crept  close,  with 
soft,  warm  arms  and  glittering  eyes.  Oh,  it  was 
heaven;  the  only  heaven  he  could  know  or  com 
prehend.  He  drew  nearer,  he  even  placed  his  hand 
within  the  sick  man's  breast  — 

Then  Paul  moved;  then,  for  the  first  time  in 
hours,  he  spoke. 

"  Constance,  Constance,"  he  moaned,  extending 
his  poor,  swollen  hands ;  "  my  dear  one,  my  only 
one,  come  to  me." 

"  Thet  settles  it,"  Soci'ty  muttered,  his  throat 
swelling  into  knots ;  "  I  might  crack  a  poor-box,  or 
skin  a  hearse  on  a  pinch,  but  he's  beyond  my  limit. 


226      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

The  poor,  poor  devil,  under  sintince  for  life,  chased 
like  a  wild  beast,  wit'  a  reward  out  ag'inst  him  be 
this  time,  and  yit,  in  his  delirum,  between  the  wery 
jaws  of  deat',  a-dreamin'  of  his  lovyer  true.  I've 
seen  manny  of  thim  croak  an'  in  pityus  shape  too, 
but,  arter  all,  it  was  the  chanct  thet  they  wint  up 
against.  But  he  —  why,  he  is  innocent.  No  front, 
no  fake,  no  song-an'-dance  for  the  chaplain;  but 
truly-rural,  so-help-me-Gawd  innocent.  It's  too 
much,  too  much;  sech  a  puffict  gentleman,  so  clean, 
so  neat,  wit'out  a  scar  or  mark  on  him,  and  his  nails 
in  bang-up  shape  like  a  leddy's.  An'  he  niver  t'rew 
no  bluffs,  or  give  me  the  nasty,  so  he  didn't;  but 
allus  a  smile  an'  a  wilcome,  as  if  thet  hole  in  the 
wall  where  he  locked  was  a  college  room.  '  Sut- 
tenly,'  says  he  to  me,  '  you  act  as  Trisurer.'  Me  act 
as  Trisurer ;  oh,  Lard !  "  And  Soci'ty  paced  to  and 
fro,  snapping  his  fingers,  and  slapping  his  sides  in 
his  progressive  exaltation  of  spirits. 

"What's  to  do;  what's  to  do?"  he  reflected, 
pausing  abruptly,  as  if  held  by  his  thoughts ;  "  he 
may  die,  or  he  may  git  well,  'tis  the  flip  of  a  kine; 
but  in  eeder  case  he  needs  a  friend,  and  he  needs 
him  bad.  Him,  do  I  say?  Why,  it's  a  her;  didn't 
he  jest  call  for  Constance,  and  name  her  the  unly 
wan.  Thin,  be  the  Fathers,  I'll  hunt  her  up  at 
Hamlin  and  fetch  her.  She  must  be  there;  'tis  his 
home,  at  all  ewents,  where  he's  knowed.  But  who 


THE   MISSING   PAIR  227 

is  there  on  the  broad  eart',  who  is  there  thet  I  kin 
trust,  or  thet'll  trust  me?  " 

As  if  in  answer  to  his  despairing  cry,  a  recol 
lection  of  the  court-room,  where  he  had  pleaded 
guilty  in  Hamlin,  flashed  over  Soci'ty's  mind.  He 
saw  himself  in  the  dock,  waiting  for  the  deputies  to 
remove  him  to  jail.  A  case  was  about  to  be  called 
—  all  were  busy,  all  intent  on  the  affairs  of  life. 
He,  alone,  had  been  cast  aside,  a  thing  of  no  impor 
tance  or  even  interest  save  that  of  idle  curiosity. 
So  he  sat,  apart,  alone,  when  a  gentle  hand  had  been 
laid  on  his  arm,  and  a  sympathetic  voice  had  said  :  — 
"  I  perceive,  my  friend,  that  you  might  be  good,  if 
you  would  only  try  not  to  be  so  bad."  It  was  the 
blind  old  court-crier,  with  his  white  hair  framing 
his  face  like  an  aureole. 

"  Thet's  me  man,"  Soci'ty  now  cried  exultantly. 
"  He'll  treat  me  square ;  he'll  niver  give  me  away. 
I'll  put  the  hull  sitooatun  up  to  him,  blow  me  if 
I  don't." 

He  brought  water  and  food,  and  placed  them 
where  they  might  readily  be  seen  and  reached. 
Then,  with  some  vague  sense  of  doing  reverence, 
he  folded  Paul's  hands  and  straightened  his  limbs; 
and  forth  he  went  on  his  dangerous  mission. 


CHAPTER    XVI 

THE    BLIND    LEADING    THE    BLIND 

PHINEAS  TWIGG  had  alighted  from  the  street-car 
and  was  feeling  his  familiar  way  homeward  from 
the  court.  A  cloud  rested  on  his  placid  face, 
smoothed  from  lesser  worries  by  one  great  life- 
sorrow;  for  the  town  was  agog  with  the  news  of 
the  escape.  He  feared  the  effect  upon  Constance 
and  Millicent  of  such  a  shock;  and  was  anxious  to 
hear  what  they  would  do  in  this  surprising  compli 
cation  of  their  plans. 

The  inevitableness  of  human  fate,  in  contrast 
.with  the  futility  of  human  hopes,  was  oppressing 
his  cheerfulness  when  his  steps  and  meditation  were 
alike  arrested  by  a  husky  whisper,  saying:  — 

"  Might  I  have  the  honor  of  a  wud  wit'  you,  Mr. 
Twigg,  on  the  strict  Q.  T.  ?  " 

The  old  man  turned  his  sightless  eyes  with  keen 
intelligence  toward  his  accoster. 

"  Who  are  you?  "  he  asked.  "  I  have  heard  that 
voice  before.  Was  it  —  I  don't  want  to  offend  you, 
my  friend  —  in  the  prisoner's  dock?" 


BLIND   LEADING  THE   BLIND     229 

"  Offend  nawthin',"  Soci'ty  replied,  much  grat 
ified.  "  It  was  thet  same,  idintical  v'ice  you  heerd, 
a-trowin'  of  itself  on  the  mussy  of  the  Coort,  not 
two  year  since.  And  'twas  you  thet  gev'  me  the 
good  wud,  jest  after  His  'Armor  hed  soaked  me  wit' 
the  bad  wan,  so  you  did." 

"  Daniel  Mattice,  alias  Soci'ty  Dan,"  Mr.  Twigg 
soliloquized  in  awed  tones ; , "  why,  man,  what  are 
you  thinking  of  to  take  such  a  risk?  There's  a 
proclamation  out  against  you,  with  a  price  set  on 
your  head.  To  come  to  this  place  of  all  places,  and 
to  make  yourself  known  to  me,  a  sworn  officer  of 
the  law  —  Oh,  God  bless  my  soul ;  how  oblivious  I 
am !  You  come,  of  course,  from  poor  Paul.  Hurry, 
behind  that  hedge,  to  the  back  door  of  my  house, 
and  I  will  let  you  in  at  once." 

"  An'  you  can't  let  me  in  too  quick,"  rejoined 
Soci'ty. 

When  the  story  of  the  escape  had  been  told  in 
the  front  room,  with  curtains  closely  drawn,  Phineas 
Twigg  reflected  deeply. 

"  Do  you  think  he  is  going  to  die  ?  "  at  length  he 
asked. 

"  I'd  be  sendin'  for  the  priest  in  the  same  case," 
Soci'ty  answered. 

"  Then,  God  forbid  that  he  should  die  friendless 
and  alone.  The  girls  are  gone  to  spend  a  day  or  so 
with  relations  of  ours  at  Nadonk,  just  across  the 


230     THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

river  from  the  prison,  you  know.  I'll  telegraph 
them  to  await  my  coming  in  the  morning.  We'll 
get  a  horse  and  wagon  and  drive  along  the  road, 
which,  you  say,  runs  not  far  distant  from  the 
deserted  freight-car.  You  can  meet  us  at  the  edge 
of  the  woods  —  " 

"  May  the  old  plug  you  hire  git  there  as  suttenly," 
agreed  Soci'ty,  rising  to  go. 

But  this  was  not  at  all  in  accord  with  Phineas 
Twigg's  ethics.  With  his  own  hands  he  brought 
food  and  drink,  sweetening  his  charity,  as  he  slipped 
a  bill  into  the  fugitive's  pocket,  with  words  of 
praise. 

"  P'raps,  you're  right,"  Soci'ty  stammered,  much 
embarrassed,  with  a  comical  twist  of  his  shoulders, 
as  he  glided  out  into  the  night;  "but  I  hev'  no 
irritatun  from  pin-fedders  as  yit." 

And,  indeed,  this  possible  growth  of  wings  met 
with  a  sudden  and  fatal  check.  As  Soci'ty  slunk 
along  the  streets,  at  the  rogue's  own  hour,  all  the 
old  predatory  instincts,  in  the  seclusion  and  safety 
of  the  dark,  revived  within  him.  Again  he  was 
taking  part  in  the  incessant  war  waged  by  those 
that  want  against  those  that  have.  Every  brightly 
lighted  window  seemed  a  beacon  guiding  him  to 
treasure.  Every  moving  shadow  seemed  the  hateful 
evidence  of  a  vigilant  foe.  He  paused  between  the 
gate-posts  of  extensive  grounds,  surrounding  a 


BLIND   LEADING  THE   BLIND     231 

broad,  old-fashioned  mansion,  beset  and  fascinated 
by  a  sudden  temptation.  He  knew  the  place  well. 
Had  he  not  sped  from  it  with  hot  foot  on  the 
morning  of  his  latest  arrest,  after  expressing  his 
disapproval  of  the  stern  code  of  its  mistress  by 
throwing  a  stone  through  the  plate-glass?  Was  it 
not  the  town  house  of  that  Governor  John  Strain 
who  had  set  a  price  on  his  head  ?  Every  fibre  of  his 
being  yearned  for  reprisal,  that  one  form  of  justice, 
rude  but  poetical,  which  appeals  to  the  criminal's 
imagination. 

"  Two  kin  play  at  thet  game,  thin,"  Soci'ty  mut 
tered  doggedly.  "  Since  he's  so  brash  about  settin' 
a  price,  we'll  see  how  he  likes  payin'  wan." 

Soci'ty  reconnoitred  stealthily  along  the  verandas. 
The  parlors  occupied  one  side  of  the  house.  On  the 
other  side  there  was  a  reception-room  in  front  and  a 
dining-room  in  the  rear.  In  the  former,  an  elderly 
lady,  whom  he  recognized  with  a  grimace  as  Mrs. 
Strain,  was  in  earnest  conversation  with  a  young 
man.  The  dining-room  was  unoccupied,  but 
lighted;  and,  through  the  half-open  door  of  a  strong 
closet  on  one  side,  he  could  catch  the  gleam  of  gold 
and  silver  ware. 

What  should  he  do?  If  he  waited,  a  servant 
might  come  and  lock  the  door.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  pair  in  the  front  room  were  so  intent  on  what 
they  were  discussing  that  either  they  might  not 


232     THE   CASE   OF   PAUL  BREEN 

hear  any  slight  sound  coming  from  the  rear,  shut 
off  as  it  was  by  heavy  curtains,  or  might  disregard  it 
as  but  an  incident  of  housework.  He  was  not 
prepared  for  any  systematic  siege;  if  anything  was 
done,  it  must  be  done  by  sudden  foray.  Soci'ty 
slipped  his  knife-blade  between  the  upper  and  lower 
sashes  of  one  of  the  windows  of  the  dining-room, 
and  pushed  back  the  bolt.  He  cautiously  worked  up 
the  lower  sash.  "  Fust,  hear;  and  thin,  strike,"  he 
philosophized,  as  he  crept  to  the  curtained  doorway 
and  listened. 

"  I  hope  you  appreciate,  Adolph,"  the  woman  was 
saying,  in  sharp,  decisive  tones,  "  the  necessity  of 
immediate  action.  If  once  Paul  gains  a  secure 
hiding-place,  from  which  he  can  communicate  with 
that  girl,  the  next  step  may  be  to  prove  his  innocence 
—  not  so  difficult  a  task,  I  sometimes  think,  as  it 
pleases  you  to  pretend.  And  then,  happy  in  the  love 
and  the  riches  which  should  both  be  yours,  he,  she, 
will  laugh  in  our  faces  — -  " 

"  I  know,  I  know,"  the  young  man  replied.  "  I 
have  to  be  cautious  on  account  of  my  relationship, 
but  already,  as  the  Governor's  representative,  I  am 
in  communication  with  Joe  and  Jake,  the  State 
detectives.  They  are  at  the  office  now.  Early 
to-morrow,  they  will  thoroughly  beat  the  woods 
across  the  river  from  the  prison.  It  is  a  safe  conclu 
sion  that,  with  every  road  and  railway  point 


BLIND   LEADING  THE   BLIND     233 

watched  as  they  now  are  by  the  prison  guards,  there 
is  where  the  fugitives  must  have  secreted  them 
selves." 

"  It  is  allus  better,"  chuckled  Soci'ty,  "  to  wait 
until  you  gits  to  the  ind  of  a  matter,  afore  you 
arrives  at  a  safe  conclus'un.  Meanwhile,  none  but 
the  brave  deserves  the  ware  —  the  silver-ware." 
And  he  glided  like  a  snake  across  the  polished  floor. 

Once  within  the  strong-room,  Soci'ty's  trained 
judgment  made  instant  selection.  He  took  a  golden 
caudle-cup,  long  an  heirloom  in  the  Hazlett  family, 
and  a  pair  of  massive  silver  candlesticks,  curiously 
carved.  "  Betune  thim,  they's  be  a  light  to  me  lips, 
as  the  Good  Book  says,"  he  quoted  somewhat  freely. 
Then,  disregarding  his  former  tactics,  he  made  a 
swift  break  for  the  window. 

The  polished  floor,  which  had  facilitated  his 
ingress,  now  proved  his  undoing.  He  slipped,  he 
fell,  he  slid ;  nor  did  he  regain  control  of  his  muscles 
until  he  was  thoroughly  twisted  and  entangled  in 
the  folds  of  the  heavy  curtains  between  the  two 
rooms. 

Then  it  was  too  late.  Strong  hands  snatched  his 
booty  from  him,  and,  pulling  down  the  curtains, 
rolled  him  over  and  over,  at  the  same  time  binding 
him  with  the  silken  cord  until  he  was  as  swathed 
and  helpless  as  a  mummy. 

"  Let's  see  whom  we  have  here,"  said  Adolph, 


234     THE   CASE   OF   PAUL  BREEN 

drawing  the  suffocating  folds  from  his  captive's 
face. 

"  Peek-a-boo ! "  cried  the  unabashed  Soci'ty, 
popping  up  like  a  jack-in-the-box. 

Mrs.  Strain  pressed  forward  and  gazed  into  his 
face.  "  You  are  the  wretch  who  broke  my  window," 
she  said  slowly,  recollection  and  intuition  combining 
to  lead  her  to  the  truth ;  "  what  are  you  doing  out 
of  prison,  where  my  husband  told  me  you  had  been 
sent,  he  was  sure,  for  a  long  term  ?  Can  it  be  — 
must  it  not  be  V-  "  And  she  drew  Adolph  aside, 
debating  something  in  excited  whispers. 

Adolph  rolled  Soci'ty  over,  with  his  face  to  the 
wall. 

"  You'll  lie  still,"  he  advised,  "  if  you  know 
what's  good  for  you." 

"  I  wud  be  lying  still,  if  I  said  I  did  know," 
Soci'ty  retorted. 

The  gas  was  turned  down,  the  door  of  the  strong 
room  was  locked  and  the  key  taken  out ;  voices  and 
footsteps  died  away,  and  all  was  still.  For  a  time, 
for  a  discreet  time,  Soci'ty  obeyed  Adolph's  parting 
injunction.  Then,  he  began  a  series  of  writhings 
and  twistings,  with  a  use  and  saving  of  strength 
that  betokened  experience. 

The  result  was  unexpectedly  successful.  The 
stout,  silken  cord  unloosed,  as  by  invisible  fingers; 
and  Soci'ty  scrambled  to  his  feet,  alone  and  free. 


BLIND   LEADING  THE   BLIND     235 

Another  moment,  and  he  was  speeding  through  the 
grounds  like  a  belated  spirit  at  cock-crow. 

There  was  a  sudden  glare  of  light,  vivid,  instan 
taneous,  throwing  the  fugitive  into  bold  relief. 
Soci'ty  stopped  short,  in  the  succeeding  darkness, 
as  if  shot,  his  ringer  on  his  nose.  "  Some  'un  flashed 
a  glim  on  me,  all  right,  all  right,"  he  reflected; 
"  Some  'un  is  pipin'  me  for  fair.  What  dooes  it 
mean  ?  " 

A  train  of  circumstances,  each  one  small  and 
unimportant  by  itself,  thronged  his  acute  and  agile 
mind,  combining  into  an  inevitable  deduction.  The 
whispered  talk  about  the  necessity  of  re-taking  Paul 
and  the  proximity  of  the  State  detectives;  Mrs. 
Strain's  recognition  and  her  excited  debate  with 
Adolph;  their  strange  withdrawal,  and  the  stranger 
facility  of  his  escape  —  yes,  yes ;  there  could  be  no 
doubt  of  it;  they  had  let  him  go  in  order  that,  all 
unsuspecting,  he  might  show  the  way  to  his  com 
panion's  hiding-place! 

"  Do  I  do  it  ?  "  murmured  Soci'ty.  "  Not  on  yer 
life  —  I  do  thim ;  "  indicating  thereby  a  disincli 
nation  to  fall  into  the  plot,  and  a  malign  purpose 
against  the  well-being  of  the  two  State  detectives. 

The  next  morning,  a  two-seated  wagon,  drawn 
by  a  sedate  and  sober  nag,  was  proceeding  leisurely 
along  the  lonely  road,  across  the  river  from  Roscoe, 


236      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

Constance  Sanderson  was  driving,  while  Phineas 
Twigg  and  Millicent  sat  on  the  seat  behind.  They 
might  well  have  been  taken  for  a  family  party  out 
for  a  day's  pleasure  in  the  woodland,  were  it  not  for 
the  undisguised  anxiety  that  accompanied  them.  A 
man  in  an  old  duster  and  blue  overalls,  with  the 
fringe  of  a  straw  hat  drawn  down  over  his  face, 
stepped  out  from  behind  a  tree.  "  If  the  cas'al 
observer  wud  take  me  for  the  hired  man,"  he 
remarked,  "  I'll  handle  the  ribbons." 

Reassured  as  to  the  propriety  of  his  appearance, 
Soci'ty  assumed  the  reins,  and  at  once  began  an 
account  of  his  adventures. 

"  It  was  this  way,"  he  said.  "  As  I  perceeded 
down  the  street,  all  the  wits  in  me  nut  kep'  tuggin' 
at  the  roots  of  me  hair  in  their  struggle  to  wool  out 
some  feas'ble  scheme.  I  was  sure  I  was  follered, 
for,  whiniver  I  stopped,  I  cud  hear  the  patter,  patter, 
of  steps  behind  on  eeder  side,  and  onct  and  agin 
there  wud  be  the  flash  of  the  glim  and  a  whistle  back 
and  fort'.  But  they  held  their  distance,  all  right, 
bein'  as  clearly  detarmined  not  to  take  me  as  they 
was  not  to  lose  me. 

"  I  was  clean  rattled,  so  I  was,  whin  I  t'ought  of 
youse  waitun'  here  for  me  in  the  marn.  For,  if  I 
kep'  me  app'intment,  they  wud  be  at  me  heels,  and, 
if  I  didn't,  Mr.  Paul  might  die,  not  knowin'  yer 
lovin'  puppose.  On  the  odder  hand,  too,  if  I  med  a 


BLIND   LEADING   THE   BLIND     237 

break  to  onct  and  got  away  from  thim,  the  chances 
were  thet  they  wud  foller  their  orig'nal  plan,  and  be 
pipin'  these  woods.  I  hed  no  fear  of  their  findun' 
the  old  freight-car,  'tis  too  well  hid  for  the  likes  of 
thim,  but  they  might  come  acrost  youse  afore  I  did, 
and  make  trouble  from  ricognizin'  the  giglamps  and 
white  lilacs  of  his  nibs  behind.  It  was  up  to  me, 
thin,  fust,  to  put  thim  on  the  wrong  trail,  and  thin 
to  git  away  in  time  to  guide  youse.  But,  as  the 
Injun  said,  whin  he  fust  hed  the  pleasure  of  meetin' 
his  white  brudder,  '  How  ?  ' 

"  It  was  very  unselfish  of  you  to  think  of  us  at  all 
in  such  a  terrible  dilemma,"  exclaimed  Constance 
warmly. 

"  I'd  hev'  been  a  shell-fish  —  a  reg'lar  clam  —  if 
I  hedn't,"  Soci'ty  protested.  "  Well,  thin,  to  re 
sume,  as  the  bank-cashier  said  whin  he  began  to  pay 
out  shinplasters  arter  hevin'  soaked  away  all  the 
kino.  You  must  know,  Miss,  thet  ivery  callin'  has 
its  own  partic'lar  knack,  and  the  gintle  art  of 
graftin'  is  no  excipshun  to  the  rule.  What  we  old 
lags  1'arn  above  all  ilse  is  the  vally  of  clus'  obser- 
vatun  of  ordinary  t'ings ;  for  you  kin  never  tell  whin 
some  handy  trifle  may  prove  the  wan  t'ing  needful 
to  wuk  out  yer  timporary  salvatun.  Suddintly, 
there  kem  to  my  mind  the  blessed  recollectun  of 
what  I  hed  seen  earlier  in  the  day,  in  the  cintre  of  a 
field,  about  two  miles  from  town ;  —  an  illigant, 


238     THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

full-sized  scarecrow,  in  an  old  duster,  blue  overalls, 
and  the  ghost  of  a  straw  hat,  thet  in  the  height  of 
the  season  must  'ev  been  a  sign  thet  anny  burd  thet 
flew  cud  read  to  keep  off  the  grass.  But  now  its 
work  was  done,  and  it  was  enj'ying  the  rist  of  a 
good  and  fait'ful  servant,  plum  on  its  face.  '  Here's 
a  chanct,'  t'ought  I,  '  for  a  mix-up  thet  wud  puzzle 
old  Solimin  hisself  to  figger  out  wuss  than  makin' 
two  babbies  outer  wan.  And  I  ducked  into  the  near 
est  lightning-j'int  to  t'ink  it  over  —  over  a  bottle 
and  a  glass  and  a  shiny,  ile-clot'  table-kiver. 

"  They  was  waitun'  pat'ently  whin  I  kem  out, 
staggerin'  as  if  what  hed  been  but  a  frindly  bout 
had  landed  on  me  sollar  plictus.  I  cud  hear  thim 
whisperin'  behind,  as  I  rotated  along  like  a  buckin' 
ottermobile,  and  prisintly  they  kem  up  on  eeder  side. 

"  '  Where  ye  bound  for  now,  Jack  ?  '  says  they. 

"  *  To  keep  an  app'intment  with  a  pal  in  Muggle- 
ton,'  says  I,  namin'  a  fly  town  a  good  bit  from  here, 
where  manny's  the  crook  been  kep'  under  kiver  till 
the  clouds  rolled  by. 

"  '  Likely  enough,'  reflicted  wan. 

"  '  But  you'll  be  late  if  you  don't  hurry  along,' 
suggested  the  odder. 

"  '  Better  late  than  niver,'  says  I,  '  and  niver  it  will 
be  if  I  hev'  the  comp'ny  of  thim  to  whom  distance 
linds  enchantment  if  annythin'  can.'  And  settin' 
down  on  the  ground,  I  whipped  a  bottle  from  me 


BLIND   LEADING  THE   BLIND     239 

clothes,  and  perceeded  to  keep  me  good  spirits  up  by 
puttin'  me  bad  spirits  down. 

"  '  There's  no  use  of  bodderin'  wit'  him  now, 
Jake,'  says  wan ;  '  he  must  take  his  own  course.' 

" '  Thet's  right,  Joe,'  says  the  odder,  as  they 
moved  away,  '  he's  got  to  be  wuss  afore  he's  better.' 

"  Well,  you  kin  believe  me,  Miss,  thet  the  course 
I  tuk  was  a  circoot'us  wan,  and  no  mistake;  from 
wan  side  of  the  street  to  the  odder,  up  stoops  and 
down  areys,  settin'  on  fences  and  rollin'  in  gutters 
—  it  wud  give  thet  tired  feelin'  to  the  Wanderin' 
Jew  hisself.  No  wonder,  thin,  they  lagged  behind 
a  little,  especially  as  they  cud  keep  tabs  on  me  wit' 
the  glim,  to  say  nawthin'  of  the  malod'jus  strains 
thet  I  now  and  again  sint  up  for  the  eddificatun  of 
the  stars.  And  so  it  happened,  thet  whin  I  kem  to 
the  holler  in  the  field,  where  the  scare-crow  risted 
wit'  his  mart'ul  robes  still  around  him,  I  hed  time 
to  lay  down  on  him  and  kiver  him  up  afore  the  de 
tectives  reached  me. 

"  *  He's  got  to  sleep  it  off,'  says  Joe. 

" '  While  we  camps  out  on  the  ground,'  growled 
Jake,  '  a-catchin'  nawthin'  excipt  colds.'  And  off 
they  wint,  lukkin',  as  us'al  wit'  their  kind,  for  a  soft 
spot. 

"  I  wasted  no  time,  knowin'  thet  they'd  rist  for  a 
bit,  believin'  me  dead  to  the  world;  and  in  a  jiffy 
I  was  in  the  scarecrow's  clothes  and  it  was  in  mine; 


240      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

and  which  wan  looked  the  most  like  the  odder  I 
rally  don't  know,  though  I  hev'  me  doubts.  Thin, 
I  braced  the  thing  up  on  its  hunkies,  and  placed  the 
bottle  to  its  lips  as  if  it  was  jest  a-goin'  mollzeit; 
and  off  I  crep'  on  hands  and  knees  to  where  the 
detectives  t'ought  they  was  detectin'.  Jest  as  I  got 
behind  thim,  they  flashed  the  glim  into  the  holler. 

"  '  He's  at  it  agin,  Joe !  '  groaned  Jake. 

"  '  I'd  like  to  be  at  him,  thin,  wit'  a  stommick- 
pump,'  Joe  groaned  back. 

"  And,  thin,  I  stepped  out  lively,  keepin'  in  the 
byways  and  hidges  whin  the  light  broke,  and  allus 
follerin'  the  line  of  least  observatun,  as  laid  down 
in  the  books  for  thim  breakin'  away.  An'  here  I  am, 
and  here  we  are,  t'anks  to  mussy."  And  Soci'ty, 
as  he  concluded,  turned  the  horse  into  a  clearing  in 
the  woods,  well-screened  by  bushes,  and  hitched  it 
to  a  sapling. 

"  This  is  the  time  whin  the  divil  can't  take  the 
hindmost,"  he  said  apologetically,  as  he  led  the  way 
along  a  winding  path. 

They  stood  without  the  old  freight-car  and  lis 
tened.  All  was  still  —  the  silence  which  death 
shares  with  desolation  and  solitude.  Which  of  these 
three  now  prevailed?  They  stole  breathlessly 
through  the  rickety  door  and  entered.  The  food 
which  Soci'ty  had  prepared  was  scattered  around; 
the  water-bottles  which  he  had  filled  were  broken; 


BLIND   LEADING  THE   BLIND     241 

the  pallet  of  straw  which  he  had  arranged  had  been 
tossed  to  one  side;  and  Paul  was  gone. 

"  They  have  caught  him,  they  have  taken  him 
away,"  moaned  Constance ;  "  there  has  been  an  aw 
ful  struggle." 

"  Nope,"  said  Soci'ty,  with  a  clearer  reading  of 
the  signs;  "the  struggle  was  wit'  hisself,  poor 
feller.  He  has  rushed  out,  Gawd  unly  knows  where, 
in  his  delir'um." 

"  Then  we  must  think  and  act  quickly,"  Millicent 
advised.  "  The  detectives  have  found  out,  long  ago, 
their  mistake  in  watching  the  scarecrow.  Their 
only  course  is  to  come  to  these  woods,  as  Adolph 
Breen  directed  in  the  first  place.  If  they  do,  Paul 
may  wander  into  their  very  arms ;  or,  at  best,  they 
may  find  us  and  suspect  that  father  - 

"  No  one  will  dare  impugn  my  motives,"  Phineas 
interrupted,  his  face  all  aglow;  "  and  if  any  one  does, 
I  don't  care." 

"  Wait  a  bit,  until  I  reconniter,"  said  Soci'ty, 
slipping  away  before  any  one  could  object.  Pres 
ently,  he  returned,  his  expression,  for  the  once, 
grave  and  even  dejected.  "  They're  standin',  the 
two  of  thim,  Joe  and  Jake,  down  by  the  rig,"  he 
reported.  "  Now,  listen ;  there's  unly  wan  way, 
and  I'm  goin'  to  take  it,  niminy  contradecanter. 
You  wait  here  for  a  half-hour,  and  thin  go  home. 
I'll  show  meself  to  onct  to  the  detectives;  they'll 


242      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL  BREEN 

foller  me  sure,  and  a  merry  chase  I'll  give  thim. 
If  I  gits  away  eventooly,  well  and  good;  I'll  hunt 
for  Paul.  If  I  don't,  thin  remimber  that  I  can't  be 
much  wuss  off  than  I  allus  hev'  been.  At  least  I'll 
keep  thim  from  Paul.  In  anny  ewent,  don't  you 
t'ree  try  to  find  him;  two  girls  and  a  blind  man  kin 
unly  help  sech  a  case  by  not  buttin'  in  excipt  wit' 
their  prayers.  S'long  to  ye  all;  I'm  off." 

"  Hurrah  for  you,"  cried  Millicent,  "  I  believe 
you  can  lead  a  dozen  stupid  detectives  by  the  nose!  " 

"  God  bless  and  keep  you,  my  son,"  said  Phineas 
Twigg. 

As  the  detectives  stood,  studying  the  possible 
meaning  of  the  wagon  hitched  in  the  woods,  their 
sharp  eyes  caught  the  skulking  of  a  form  among 
the  trees.  It  was  Soci'ty  Dan,  the  man  who  had 
escaped  them  the  night  before,  looking  for  marks 
on  the  bark  and  in  the  rocks,  evidently  on  his  way 
at  last  to  the  true  hiding-place  of  his  companion  and 
their  quarry,  Paul  Breen.  They  followed  noise 
lessly,  well-satisfied,  from  his  intentness,  that  he  had 
no  suspicion  of  their  proximity. 

A  merry  chase,  indeed,  Soci'ty  led  them,  through 
the  endless  stretches  of  the  woodland  toward  the 
outlying  mountains,  every  hour  leaving  the  freight- 
,car  more  hopelessly  in  the  distance.  With  grim  de 
termination,  however,  they  hung  on  to  his  trail, 
never  suffering  him  to  disappear  from  view,  dodge 


TAKE   US   AT   ONCE   TO    WHERE   PAUL   BREEN    IS    HID,    AND   WE  LL 
LET   YOU   GO.'  " 


BLIND   LEADING  THE   BLIND     243 

and  double  as  he  would.  At  length  the  approach  of 
night,  with  its  sure  protection  for  him,  its  certain 
defeat  for  them,  brought  this  strange  duel  to  an  end. 
Joe  and  Jake  sprang  forward,  covering  him  with 
their  revolvers. 

"  We've  had  enough  of  this,"  they  declared. 
"  We  know  you,  damn  you.  You  are  Daniel  Mat- 
tice,  alias  Soci'ty  Dan,  wanted  for  breaking  prison. 
Take  us  at  once  to  where  Paul  Breen  is  hid,  and 
we'll  let  you  go." 

Soci'ty  looked  up  stupidly.  "  Me  no  spik  In- 
glis,"  he  protested,  with  a  mimicry  of  Italian  ges 
ticulation,  amazing  in  its  impudence. 

"  Then,  curse  you,  we'll  take  you  in." 

"  Take  me  in,  hey?  "  cried  Soci'ty,  audacious,  un 
daunted,  in  his  own  improper  person,  "  well,  how 
about  yourselves  ?  I've  led  you  by  the  nose  all  day, 
jest  as  a  darlint,  which  shall  be  nameless,  said  thet 
I  wud;  and  ivery  step  has  been  furder  and  furder 
from  Paul  Breen.  Take  me  in,  hey;  I'm  used  to 
thet.  There's  nawthin'  in  the  cooler,  an'  a  ball-an'- 
chain,  an'  bread-an'-water,  but's  an  old  story  wit' 
me,  soon  told.  So  do  your  damndest,  you  can't  do 
much ;  unly  remimber  while  you're  a-doin'  of  it 
thet  youse  was  done  brown  and  zwei-backed  by 
Soci'ty  Dan !  " 


CHAPTER    XVII 

ON    TO    WASHINGTON 

THERE  is  no  one  so  consistently  devout  in  the 
worship  of  his  Maker  as  the  self-made  man.  His 
success  and  his  conceit  are  examples,  respectively, 
of  arithmetical  and  geometrical  progression ;  and, 
until  the  one  wavers  and  halts,  the  other  continues 
its  exultant  flight. 

If  a  little  learning  is  a  dangerous  thing,  limited 
learning  is  a  more  dangerous  one.  The  ill  effects 
of  the  former  are  generally  outward  and  material, 
leading  to  blunders,  mistakes,  humiliations  and 
losses.  The  worst  effects  of  the  latter  are  inward 
and  spiritual,  leading  to  dogmatism,  impatience  and 
contempt  for  the  opinion  of  others.  While  a  little 
learning  often  produces  mortification,  limited  learn 
ing,  if  sufficient  within  its  bounds,  tends  to  com 
placency.  The  man  who  can  do  a  class  of  things 
exceeding  well,  and  yet  who  has  not  the  humility 
taught  by  a  contemplation  of  the  infinite,  comes  to 
regard  himself  in  a  way  as  a  god;  and,  like  the 
Lord,  when  he  rests  from  his  labors  and  views  the 

244 


ON   TO   WASHINGTON  245 

work  of  his  hands,  whatever  it  may  be,  pronounces  it 
good  without  hesitation  or  reservation. 

But  power  is  an  even  more  dangerous  thing  than 
such  lack  or  sufficiency.  It  is  the  touch-stone  of 
greatness;  the  nectar  upon  which  divinity  thrives, 
but  whose  fumes  are  likely  to  drive  poor  humanity 
first  drunk  and  then  mad.  Discipline  may  fit  the 
soul  for  it,  but  never  pride  and  never  self-assurance. 

It  follows  from  this  brief  homily  that  John  Strain 
was  nearing  the  crisis  of  his  career.  By  his  own 
efforts  he  had  climbed  high.  Through  patient,  per 
sistent,  indefatigable  toil  he  had  grubbed  and  ground 
out  preeminence  in  his  profession.  Through  abso 
lute  faith  in  his  own  rectitude,  not  only  of  purpose, 
but  of  methods  and  results,  he  had  inspired  his  fel 
low-men  with  a  like  confidence,  and-  they  had 
hastened  to  do  him  honor.  Now,  as  Governor,  he 
had  power,  broad  power;  power  for  good  or  evil, 
power  for  life  or  death.  How  would  he  exert  it,  and 
how  would  its  exercise  affect  him?  John  Strain,  at 
least,  up  to  this  time  had  no  doubts  or  dreads  for 
the  one  or  the  other. 

Regarding,  then,  his  motives  and  deeds  as  en 
dowed  with  the  sacredness  of  perfection,  Governor 
Strain  was  both  shocked  and  incensed  by  the  news 
of  the  escape  from  prison.  He  had  taken  a  personal 
interest  in  the  visit  of  the  two  philanthropists  to 
Roscoe,  and  had,  indeed,  requested  them  to  give  him 


246     THE   CASE  OF   PAUL   BREEN 

the  benefit  of  their  investigations  for  certain  reforms 
he  had  in  mind.  Something  of  the  nature  of  lese- 
majeste,  it  seemed  to  him,  attached  to  the  offence; 
it  was  more  than  an  infraction  or  an  affront,  it  was 
a  blow  aimed  at  the  supremacy  of  law  and  order, 
and,  so  far  as  within  him  lay,  he  would  avenge  it. 
Within  twenty-four  hours,  the  State  was  placarded 
with  notices  of  a  reward  of  $10,000  for  the  capture 
of  Paul  Breen,  and  of  $2,000  for  the  capture  of  his 
companion,  Daniel  Mattice,  alias  "  Soci'ty  Dan." 

This  action,  so  prompt,  so  lavish,  did  not,  how 
ever,  satisfy  the  Governor.  Against  his  better  judg 
ment,  against  his  determined  will,  he  was  con 
strained  to  realize  that,  like  Saul,  his  mind  was 
breathing  forth  threatenings  and  slaughter.  An 
emotion,  deeper,  obscurer,  more  vitally  personal 
than  any  sense  of  public  wrong  oppressed  him.  The 
face  of  Paul  Breen  kept  recurring  to  him,  tranquil, 
candid,  unflinching,  its  gaze  meeting  his  gaze  like 
the  crossing  of  hostile  steel.  Why  was  it  that  this 
convict  would  not  go  the  forgotten  way  of  other 
convicts?  Strain  had  prosecuted  him,  convicted 
him,  sent  him  to  a  living  death,  refused  his  prayer 
for  pardon,  and  yet,  here  he  was  again,  forcing  him 
self,  against  impossible  odds,  into  active  opposition 
to  the  victor's  will.  He  remembered  his  early  sym 
pathy  in  the  case,  succeeded  by  a  hostility  almost 
ferocious.  He  remembered  how  the  petition  for 


ON  TO  WASHINGTON  247 

pardon  had  affected  him  when  he  had  first  read  it, 
tugging  at  his  heart,  as  it  were,  against  the  stern 
veto  of  his  reason  which  had  quickly  followed.  He 
had  known  that  he  was  right  in  his  refusal;  and 
yet  a  feeling  which  he  could  not  understand  had 
prevented  him  from  ever  mentioning  the  matter  to 
Adolph,  who,  indeed,  had  been  away  at  the  time; 
and  had  constrained  him  to  put  it  out  of  his  mind 
as  far  as  it  was  possible. 

Always,  always,  the  personality  of  Paul  had  ob 
truded  itself,  changing  the  trained,  unimpassioned 
professional  judgment,  of  which  he  was  so  proud, 
back  and  forth  between  preference  and  prejudice. 
And  now,  even  now,  deceive  himself  as  he  might, 
it  was  the  latent,  silent,  but  indomitable  defiance  of 
Paul's  escape  which  was  the  true  cause  of  the  ex 
traordinary  reward  he  had  offered. 

Why  was  this  so?  John  Strain  could  not  tell; 
but  the  need  of  justification  shook  and  unsettled  his 
whole  mental  structure.  It  was  intolerable  that  he 
should  feel  as  he  did.  Why,  if  he  continued,  he 
might  lose  that  faith  in  himself  which  had  enabled 
him  to  be  all  that  he  was.  His  action  was  proper; 
indeed,  it  was  demanded  by  the  highest  and  purest 
reasons  of  state.  Not  only  would  he  force  himself 
so  to  believe,  but  the  whole  country  should  believe 
so  with  him.  With  feverish  haste,  vastly  different 
from  his  ordinary  deliberateness,  he  added  the  fol- 


248     THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

lowing  statement  to  the  formal  proclamation  of  re 
ward  which  the  law  required  him  to  issue :  — 

"  The  Governor,  in  offering  a  larger  reward  for 
the  apprehension  of  the  escaped  convict,  Paul  Breen, 
than  has  ever  before  been  offered  in  the  history  of 
this  State,  is  moved  by  a  profound  conviction  of 
what  the  duty  of  the  hour  demands. 

:<  This  one,  supreme  duty  is  that  Justice  must 
prevail.  Her  sway  is  founded  in  the  eternal  verities 
of  God.  As  we  abide  by  it,  so  shall  we  abide  in 
honor;  as  we  depart  from  it,  so  shall  we  depart 
from  the  place  we  have  won  among  the  nations  of 
the  earth;  for  our  very  existence,  the  cause  of  our 
being,  is  a  challenge  to,  and  a  denial  of,  privi 
lege. 

"  As  Justice  knows  no  rancor,  so  she  knows  no 
pity.  In  her  scales  the  offence  and  the  penalty  bal 
ance  exactly ;  and  there  is  no  room,  on  one  side  or 
the  other,  for  either  vengeance  or  compassion. 

"  The  good  citizen  can  never  fear,  the  bad  citizen 
should  ever  fear,  her  edicts.  They  are  upheld  by 
reason;  they  are  unaffected  by  the  emotions. 
Through  their  impartial  execution  the  Nation  must 
live  and  move  and  have  its  being. 

'  The  capture  of  this  trembling  wretch,  seeking  to 
hide  his  dishonored  face  from  the  sight  of  mankind, 
is  nothing;  but  the  vindication  of  the  law  is  every 
thing.  If  there  is  one  exception,  there  may  be  many 


ON  TO   WASHINGTON  249 

exceptions.  When  Justice  varies  one  jot  or  tittle, 
then  Injustice  rules  arbitrarily  and  despotically  in 
her  stead. 

"  Natural  endowments,  kindly  and  attractive 
graces,  station,  riches,  influence  and  power,  when 
pleaded  in  abatement,  only  emphasize  the  necessity 
of  no  discrimination.  Our  security  and  salvation  as 
a  people  demand  that,  equally,  exactly  and  inevi 
tably,  every  man,  whoever  he  may  be,  rich  or  poor, 
high  or  low,  shall  reap  as  he  has  sown,  until  full  and 
complete  requital  before  the  law  is  made." 

These  ringing  phrases  soothed  John  Strain's  un 
wonted  perturbation.  He  yielded  to  the  fascination 
of  the  written  word.  Again,  he  was  as  great  as  he 
would  be  great;  again,  his  motives  were  as  pure  as 
his  deeds  were  impeccable.  The  vision  of  Paul 
Breen  faded  from-  his  memory,  and  in  its  place,  if 
the  thought  of  the  man  recurred  at  all,  was  the 
skulking  convict,  an  impersonal  type.  His  doubts 
and  dreads  had  been  but  a  momentary  weakness  — 
that  sign  of  mortality  which  now  and  again  comes 
to  all  men  of  exalted  purpose  and  high  responsibili 
ties  to  warn  them  that  they,  too,  are  dust. 

And,  that  evening,  when  John  Strain  returned 
from  the  Capital  to  his  home  at  Hamlin,  his  assur 
ance  was  still  further  reassured.  Not  since  the  days 
of  their  courtship  had  Abigail  Alice  been  so  affable 
and  cordial.  For  years,  she  had  acted  the  consistent 


250     THE   CASE   OF   PAUL  BREEN 

part  of  an  extremely  captious  conscience,  never 
praising,  always  finding  fault,  although  her  voice 
was  neither  small  nor  still.  Now,  this  same  voice 
was  lifted  up  in  thanksgiving  for  the  marital  priv 
ilege  which  was  hers. 

The  change  was  gratifying  to  John  Strain,  as  his 
marriage  had  always  been  a  rather  sore  point  with 
him.  Granted  that  through  it,  primarily,  he  had 
gained  a  start,  still,  men  are  apt  to  kick  aside  dis 
dainfully  the  stool  by  which  they  climb,  —  especially 
if  it  has  become  a  stool  of  repentance.  Besides,  his 
idea  of  a  wife  was  the  old-fashioned  one  of  a  vine 
entwining  around  a  sturdy  oak;  and  not  even  an 
abnormal  development  of  that  imagination  which  he 
lacked  could  picture  Abigail  Alice  in  so  dependent 
and  trustful  a  role. 

But  now,  as  he  sat  in  the  easiest  chair,  in  the 
coziest  corner,  and  listened  to  all  the  good  things 
she  declared  the  neighbors  were  saying  of  him,  the 
Governor  was  inclined  to  admit,  to  his  innermost 
self,  of  course,  and  in  strict  confidence,  that  there 
might  be  less  sensible  women  than  his  wife  after  all. 
This  conclusion,  however,  was  consigned  to  the 
limbo  of  the  undemonstrated,  when  Mrs.  Strain, 
with  an  eagerness  undisguised  and  no  longer  to  be 
restrained,  cried :  — 

"  Oh,  John,  you  do  think,  don't  you,  that  they  will 
catch  that  Paul  Breen  ?  " 


ON  TO   WASHINGTON  251 

"Ah,  that  is  it,  is  it?"  Strain  said,  with  an  air 
of  enlightenment. 

The  woman  flushed  a  little  and  bit  her  lip.  "  I 
don't  know  what  you  mean,"  she  protested,  "  but 
I  do  know  that  the  finest  thing  you  ever  did  or  ever 
can  do,  if  you  live  a  thousand  years,  was  to  offer 
that  immense  reward  for  him." 

"Why?" 

"  Why,  because  he  is  a  murdering  villain  who 
ought  to  be  hanged  if  he  got  his  deserts,  that's  why." 

"  Why  are  you  always  so  hot  against  him,  Abi 
gail  ?  "  asked  John,  genuinely  interested ;  "  he  never 
injured  or  insulted  you  in  any  way,  did  he  ?  " 

"I  rather* think  not!" 

"  He  used  to  be  around  our  house  a  good  deal  at 
one  time  —  didn't  he  always  bear  himself  as  a  quiet, 
gentlemanly,  young  fellow  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  so." 

"  Considerate,  highly  intelligent  —  " 

"  Yes,  yes  —  " 

"  With  an  attractive  face,  an  engaging  man 
ner  —  " 

"  I  hate  him,  I  hate  him,"  stormed  Abigail  Alice. 
"  I  hate  his  manner,  his  considerateness,  his  intel 
ligence,  his  face  and  personality  most  of  all!  I  do, 
I  do ;  though  I  don't  know  why,  any  more  than  I 
know  why  I  am  I,  and  you  are  you.  There  are  some 
things  that  come  to  a  woman  that  can't  be  reasoned 


252      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

out  or  put  into  words,  and  yet  they  may  be  the  only 
real  things  in  her  life.  But  let  me  ask  you,  since 
questions  are  in  order,  what  do  you  mean  by  de 
fending  him  to  my  face  —  you,  who  swore  you 
would  swing  him  —  you  know  you  did ;  you,  who 
relentlessly  drove  him  into  prison,  and  have  kept 
him  there,  refusing  even  to  hear  his  protestations  of 
innocence;  you,  who  have  set  a  fortune  on  his  head, 
enough  to  draw  out  the  nation  in  pursuit  of  him 
as  if  after  some  wild  beast  —  what  do  you  mean  by 
that,  I  say?  Oh,  you  needn't  attempt  to  answer,  I 
know,  I  know !  It's  mere  contrariness  —  it  is  to 
tantalize  and  exasperate  a  poor,  weak,  despised,  for 
saken  woman,  in  whose  place  you'd  like  to  put  some 
such  hussy  as  Constance  Sanderson,  but  you  sha'n't, 
—  I'll  live  to  thwart  you !  It  is  but  a  part  of  all  I 
have  had  to  endure  for  years  and  years,  you, 
you,  — "  But  here  passion  grew  incoherent  and 
then  speechless,  and  Mrs.  Strain  tore  from  the  room 
in  a  hysterical  torrent  of  tears. 

And  Governor  John  Strain  sat  long,  that  night,  in 
his  stuffed  chair  and  by  his  bright  fire,  unapprecia- 
tive  of  their  comfort,  lost  in  thought.  In  no  degree 
was  he  thus  anxiously,  almost  timorously,  ponder 
ing  over  his  wife's  outburst;  that  was  a  forgotten 
trifle,  like  the  empty  wrath  of  a  storm  that  had 
beat  in  vain  against  his  house,  as  many  another 
storm  in  the  past  had  vainly  beat.  No,  no ;  it  was 


ON   TO   WASHINGTON  253 

her  question,  with  its  insistent,  persistent,  eternal 
why,  that  oppressed  him.  Why  had  he  defended 
Paul  Breen  to  her?  It  had  been  done  impulsively, 
so  much  he  realized;  but  all  the  worse  for  that. 
Was  he  a  man  to  lose  his  fixed  judgment  in  im 
pulse  ?  Whence,  then,  had  come  this  impulse  ?  Had 
he  an  intuition  in  Paul's  favor,  even  as  his  wife  had 
one  in  his  despite?  The  Governor  shook  his  head 
in  despair  of  the  problem,  and,  as  he  crept  into  bed 
to  a  sleep  as  uneasy  as  it  had  always  been  sound  and 
serene,  he  shivered  as  if  the  unknown  had  touched 
him. 

But,  with  the  clarity  and  reality  of  morning,  the 
strong  man  was  himself  again ;  shrugging  his 
shoulders  shamedly  instead  of  shivering,  and  then 
putting  the  subject  resolutely  from  his  mind.  He 
was  still  on  the  upward  and  onward  way,  of  that 
he  was  assured.  It  was  in  the  very  air;  it  perme 
ated  the  looks  and  talk  of  his  neighbors.  As  he 
strode  down  the  street  to  the  station,  the  embodi 
ment  of  intelligent  force,  his  progress  was  triumphal. 
Men  of  all  parties,  even  bitter  political  opponents, 
stopped  to  express  their  appreciation  of  the  time 
liness  and  weight  of  his  proclamation.  He  had 
struck  a  popular  chord,  beyond  peradventure.  As 
an  old  farmer,  whip  in  hand,  remarked  to  the  ap 
proving  bystanders :  — 

"  That's  the  stuff  the  fathers  preached  and  prac- 


254      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

tised;  and  that's  the  stuff  upon  which  we  must  rely 
in  these  evil  days  of  boodle  and  high-handed  deal 
ings." 

At  the  Capital  the  unanimity  and  heartiness  of 
praise  was  even  more  marked.  Both  the  morning 
papers,  recognized  respectively  as  the  mouth-pieces 
of  the  two  great  political  parties  of  the  State,  united 
in  pronouncing  the  proclamation  a  most  significant 
and  far-reaching  public  utterance.  When  the  met 
ropolitan  papers  arrived,  this  judgment  gained  dig 
nity  from  the  concurrence  of  their  leading  edito 
rials;  and  so,  before  night,  throughout  this  town, 
where  every  one  was  a  politician  by  birth,  and 
many  a  one  was  a  statesman  by  inheritance,  the 
conviction  prevailed  that  Governor  Strain  was  a 
man  of  destiny. 

Nor  was  this  renown  either  local  or  transitory. 
It  so  happened  that  during  the  last  year  the  moral 
sense  of  the  country  had  been  shocked  by  the  ex 
posure  of  corruption  in  high  places  —  corruption, 
not  timorous  or  faint-hearted,  but  bold,  defiant,  re 
turning  the  old  challenge  of  "  What  are  you  going 
to  do  about  it  ?  "  to  shameful  accusation.  In  the 
great  cities  there  had  been  peculations,  briberies, 
the  sale  of  public  offices,  the  waste  of  public  utili 
ties;  and  yet  the  administration  of  the  law  had 
failed  adequately  to  correct  or  restrain.  Indict 
ments  had  been  found,  only  to  be  pigeonholed  or 


ON  TO   WASHINGTON  255 

quashed;  packed  juries  had  acquitted  without  leav 
ing  their  seats;  those  who  were  put  in  had  proved 
even  worse  than  those  who  were  put  out ;  and  many 
a  thoughtful,  patriotic  mind  was  overshadowed  by 
despair  for  the  Republic. 

John  Strain's  proclamation,  then,  had  all  the 
solemnity  of  an  evangel.  As  an  obscure  paper,  in 
a  little  town  far  down  on  the  Gulf  expressed  it,  it 
was  "  the  voice  of  one  crying  in  the  wilderness : 
'  Prepare  ye  the  way  of  the  Lord,  make  his  paths 
straight.'  '  The  striking  metaphor  enkindled  the 
popular  imagination,  sweeping  up  to  the  north,  and 
then  westward-ho,  reiterated  and  reflected  by  a 
thousand  presses  like  the  wavings  of  the  Scottish 
fiery  cross.  The  hour  for  national  reform  had 
come ;  behold  the  man !  • 

Civic  and  ethical  clubs,  far  and  near,  felt  the 
magnetic,  emotional  currents,  hot  with  resentment 
and  indignation,  perfervid  for  change,  that  were 
thrilling  similarly  through  a  thousand,  thousand 
hearts.  Their  members  wore  badges,  emblazoned 
"  Strain  and  Justice,"  and  in  lecture-rooms  and  on 
the  hustings  the  Governor's  pregnant  phrases  were 
repeated  and  lauded  until  they  became  the  mightiest 
of  the  classic  household  words. 

The  man  of  homely  virtue  is  the  man  of  strength 
in  a  democracy,  for  he  represents  the  ideal  of  the 
lowliest.  His  career  gives  poesy  to  prosaic  toil,  and 


256      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

lightens  with  hope  the  dull  road  of  routine.  A 
myriad  pens  depicted  John  Strain  from  every  point 
of  view;  they  told  of  the  struggles  of  his  youth, 
the  tireless  labors,  the  difficulties,  the  triumphs  of 
his  stalwart  manhood.  They  put  words  in  his 
mouth  and  actions  in  his  hand,  not  real,  perhaps,  but 
apt.  And  out  from  this  composite  picture  he  shone 
attractive,  in  simple  lines;  the  exemplary  citizen, 
the  stern  patriot,  the  type  of  the  old  Roman,  hard 
as  oak,  but  equal  to  every  emergency,  and  sound  to 
the  core  —  the  man  of  the  people,  in  fine,  who  knew 
and  did  the  right,  and  feared  not. 

The  Presidential  election  was  barely  six  months 
distant;  and  the  party  to  which  John  Strain  be 
longed  was  still  wallowing  in  a  hopeless  minority, 
without  candidate  or  issue.  A  conference  of  its 
most  prominent  leaders  was  held  in  New  Chester, 
and  it  saw  a  sudden  light.  The  next  day,  Adolph 
Breen  entered  the  executive  chamber,  where  his 
partner  was  doggedly  plodding  his  way  through  a 
mass  of  routine  matters.  "  Mr.  President,"  he  said, 
with  extended  hand,  "  allow  me  to  congratulate 
you." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  Strain  asked  with  an 
assumption  of  surprise,  though  there  was  a  master 
ful  light  in  his  eyes,  and  his  ruddy  cheeks  had  paled 
a  little. 

"  It  is  all  over  except  the  shouting,"  Adolph  con- 


ON   TO   WASHINGTON  257 

tinued.  "  Carrington  is  for  you ;  Rhodes  is  for 
you;  the  whole  Committee  are  in  a  tumble  to  get 
on  the  band-wagon.  You  will  be  nominated  sure  by 
acclamation;  and  Strain  and  Justice  will  sweep  the 
country." 

"  Nonsense,  the  boom  is  too  emotional  to  last ; 
the  flurry  will  be  over  before  the  convention  meets." 

"  The  convention  will  execute  the  will  of  its 
masters  ^-  have  no  fear  of  that ;  it  has  all  been 
provided  for  down  to  the  smallest  detail.  Why, 
man,  you  are  our  political  Moses,  the  only  one  who 
can  lead  us  from  utter  bondage  into  abounding  milk 
and  honey;  you  don't  think  we  are  going  to  lose 
you,  do  you  ?  There  may  be  something  in  what  you 
say,  though,  about  the  flurry.  I  haven't  half  your 
confidence  in  the  popular  will  — •  there's  nothing 
more  variable  to  my  mind  —  that  is,  nothing  mas 
culine.  But  enthusiasm  can  be  rekindled,  and  may 
then  burn  all  the  brighter;  and  if  only  that  event 
does  happen  which  I  believe  will  happen  at  the  psy 
chological  moment,  the  wheels  will  need  no  greas- 
ing-" 

"And  that  is?" 

"  Paul's  arrest  on  the  eve  of  the  convention." 

But  John  Strain  strode  up  and  down  the  room, 
his  brows  contracted,  snapping  his  great  fingers  like 
Chinese  crackers.  "  It  is  a  great,  a  glorious  oppor 
tunity/'  he  muttered,  "  the  opportunity  of  a  life- 


258     THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

time.  To  be  President  of  these  United  States,  the 
representative,  the  ruler,  of  eighty  millions  of 
people;  what  a  fulfillment,  what  a  rounding-out  of 
an  honorable  ambition,  a  noble  career.  And  I  felt 
it,  I  felt  it  coming  all  the  while." 

Then  he  stopped  abruptly,  towering  over  Adolph 
with  flaming  face  and  swelling  throat.  "  Oh,  I 
know  you  politicians,"  he  stormed ;  "  you  can't  fool 
me.  You  always  want  the  full  credit;  you  never 
concede  an  inch  to  personal  merit  or  strength.  And 
don't  you  be  fooled  either,  my  boy,  by  what  I  just 
said  about  the  boom  giving  out;  it  was  but  in  the 
spirit  of  nolo  episcopari,  and  not  to  be  taken  seri 
ously.  The  boom's  all  right,  never  fear.  So  tell 
your  friends  that,  if  they  will  do  their  part,  I'll  keep 
my  end  up.  Why,  I'll  sweep  the  country  like  wild 
fire.  You  never  knew  John  Strain  to  fail,  did  you, 
in  anything  on  which  he  set  his  mind  ?  No,  and  you 
never  will.  What  do  I  care  for  Carrington  and 
Rhodes  and  all  that  crew?  I  believe  in  the  people 
and  they  believe  in  me,  and  together  we  make  a 
team  that  can't  be  beaten.  No  clique  can  run  me; 
I'm  needed,  I  tell  you ;  needed  to  restore  the  old 
order  of  things,  the  reign  of  equity,  of  righteous 
ness,  yes,  of  Strain  and  Justice.  That's  why  I'll  be 
nominated ;  that's  why  I'll  accept ;  that's  why  I'll 
be  elected,  as  I  will  be,  by  the  Eternal !  " 

"  And   Paul  ? "   Adolph   asked  submissively,  af- 


ON  TO  WASHINGTON  259 

fected  as  he  always  was  by  the  cumulating  force  and 
weight  of  his  partner's  ardor. 

"  Paul,  Paul  Breen?  Oh,  what's  the  use  of  talk 
ing  about  him?  Likely  enough  he  will  be  arrested 
at  just  the  right  time;  but  it  will  be  in  the  natural 
course  of  events,  one  thing  out  of  many  working 
together  for  the  common  good.  You  don't  suppose, 
for  one  moment,  do  you,  that  such  a  miserable 
creature  could  have  any  real  influence,  one  way  or 
the  other,  on  the  destiny  of  a  man  like  me  ?  No,  no ; 
that  rests  here !  " 

And  the  Governor  slapped  his  broad  chest  with 
the  arrogance  of  a  conqueror. 


CHAPTER    XVIII 

IN    THE    HANDS    OF    THE    EXPERT 

THE  young  professor,  James  Tancredi,  had  been 
from  boyhood  the  slave  of  his  own  good-nature. 
He  had  accepted  without  protest  the  guidance  of  all 
who  took  the  trouble  to  influence  him,  and  this  was 
the  result  rather  of  strength  than  of  weakness.  A 
weaker  man,  whether  lacking  in  brain,  body  or 
moral  fibre,  would  have  found  himself  annoyed  or 
oppressed  by  the  tasks  or  responsibilities  thrust  upon 
him,  and,  merely  through  seeking  ease,  would  have 
resented  control.  Tancredi,  easily  capable  of  more 
than  had  ever  been  required  or  requested,  had  found 
pleasure  in  exerting  his  abilities  in  whatever  field 
they  were  called  to  action.  As  a  boy,  schooldays 
seemed  never  burdensome  to  him.  The  tasks  set 
before  him  were  readily  performed,  and  the  social 
side  of  school-life  brought  him  delight.  Brilliant 
in  the  class-room,  he  was  no  less  distinguished  in 
athletics,  for  which  his  light,  sinewy  figure  especially 
adapted  him.  Reaching,  without  great  effort,  dis 
tinction  in  boyish  studies  and  sports,  he  remained 

260 


IN   THE   HANDS   OF  THE   EXPERT    261 

modest  because  all  he  accomplished  seemed  to  him 
simple,  and,  being  modest  and  talented,  he  was 
popular. 

The  same  qualities  won  him  similar  success  in 
college-life,  and  he  had  entered  upon  his  profes 
sional  studies  without  misgiving  and  also  without 
thought  of  leaving  the  beaten  path  that  had  always 
been  so  pleasant  to  his  feet.  His  father,  who  had 
died  a  year  before  Tancredi's  graduation,  had  been 
a  physician  of  local  eminence,  and  had  wished  his 
son  to  continue  the  honor  of  the  name  in  medical 
annals.  Had  Tancredi  disregarded  this  wish,  and 
followed  some  other  pursuit,  there  might  have  come 
disillusion  and  a  revolt  that  would  have  strengthened 
and  developed  his  character.  But  here  again,  his 
good-natured  compliance  seemed  to  open  the  way 
before  him.  Some  notable  successes  in  the  first 
years  of  practice,  together  with  the  prestige  of  his 
father's  name,  led  to  the  request  that  he  would  join 
the  faculty  of  the  medical  school  connected  with 
Carteret  College;  and  he  had  accepted  the  invita 
tion  because  it  was  still  along  the  line  of  least  re 
sistance. 

Tancredi's  duties,  as  a  member  of  the  faculty, 
were  not  so  absorbing  as  to  require  all  his  time  or 
efforts,  and  he  had  written  several  carefully  consid 
ered  papers  for  medical  journals  —  one  upon  "  Ata 
vistic  Heredity  in  Disease,"  and  one  upon  "  Intra- 


262      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL  BREEN 

capsular  Fractures  of  the  Femora  "  had  been  espe 
cially  successful  —  and  had  also  published  "  Vibra 
tory  Therapeutics,"  the  book  Paul  Breen  had  found 
so  inspiring.  But  he  was,  unknown  to  himself,  un- 
awakened.  He  was  living  without  strong  motive  or 
purpose,  and  consequently  taking  life  rather  frivo 
lously,  as  a  passive  rather  than  an  active  factor. 

He  had  never  shirked  responsibility,  but  neither 
had  he  sought  the  work  or  the  place  where  he  could 
do  his  best  for  others  and  consequently  for  himself. 
From  this  relative  dolce  far  niente  he  might  never 
have  been  roused  had  it  not  been  for  his  meeting 
with  Constance  and  Millicent  in  the  station. 

Millicent  had  impressed  him  strongly,  and  this 
attraction,  which  might  have  been  passing,  was 
strengthened  by  a  second  accidental  meeting,  a  few 
days  later,  when  he  had  gone  to  New  Chester  on 
legislative  business,  and  she  happened  to  be  there 
on  a  shopping  expedition.  The  romantic  agent  that 
brought  about  a  continuation  of  the  acquaintance 
was  a  trolley-car  —  a  deus  ex  machina  up  to  date. 

Millicent,  who  had  her  proper  share  of  feminine 
traits,  alighted  while  facing  the  wrong  way.  Before 
she  was  clear  the  car  started.  The  laws  of  nature, 
being  entirely  unchivalrotis,  treated  her  without  the 
slightest  consideration;  she  was  thrown  down,  and 
became  faint  from  the  shock.  The  car  was  stopped 
instantly,  and,  in  response  to  an  inquiry  for  a  doc- 


IN  THE   HANDS   OF  THE   EXPERT    263 

tor,  Tancredi,  absorbed  in  his  paper  at  the  further 
end,  came  forward  to  give  what  assistance  he  might. 

Fortunately,  the  injury  was  not  very  serious. 
After  a  little,  Millicent  recovered  her  senses  and 
rose  to  her  feet.  She  recognized  Tancredi,  and 
thanked  him  with  a  smile,  surprised,  questioning, 
bewitching,  in  its  mute  raillery.  The  conductor, 
seeing  that  there  was  nothing  further  to  be  done, 
and  after  Millicent  had  assured  him  that  she  had  no 
complaint  to  make,  rang  his  bell,  and  the  car  went 
on,  leaving  the  young  doctor  and  his  patient  to 
gether,  and  unobserved,  except  for  a  dingy  looking 
man  who  watched  them  furtively  from  the  further 
side  of  a  tree. 

"  Now,"  said  Tancredi,  "  I  am  going  to  call  a 
cab,  and  take  you  home.  You  ought  not  to  be  left 
alone  after  a  fall  like  that  —  the  faintness  is  likely 
to  recur."  He  spoke  authoritatively,  as  a  physician 
should. 

"  But  I  live  in  Hamlin,"  Millicent  objected. 

"  So  much  the  better  for  me,"  Tancredi  replied, 
"  for  that  is  on  my  way  home  to  Carteret.  I  am 
really  a  neighbor  of  yours  even  if  I  do  live  in  an 
other  State." 

And  so  a  cab  was  summoned,  and  they  drove 
away  in  high  spirits  —  the  best  of  friends,  so  it 
seemed  to  the  dingy  man  from  behind  the  tree  who 
doggedly  followed  them. 


264      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

They  found  Phineas  and  Constance  in  the  sitting- 
room  at  the  Twigg  home,  and  Millicent,  in  a  few 
words,  explained  her  mishap. 

"You  are  sure  she  is  not  seriously  injured?" 
Phineas  asked,  coming  across  to  where  his  daughter 
sat,  and  touching  her  face  delicately  with  his  slender 
fingers. 

*  There  is  no  sign  of  anything  more  than  shock 
and  the  little  bruise,"  Tancredi  answered,  "  but  I 
thought  it  best  to  accompany  her." 

"  I  am  sound  and  in  my  right  mind,"  Millicent 
protested. 

"  You  seem  to  be  assigned  to  play  the  part  of 
guardian  angel  to  these  young  women,"  Phineas 
continued.  "  We  are  all  so  glad  to  meet  you  again 
and  to  thank  you  both  for  your  interference  with 
the  thief,  and  for  your  attention  to  my  daughter's 
injury.  Mr.  Tancredi,  I  am  blind,  as  my  child  may 
have  told  you.  You  can  have  no  conception  of  the 
difference  such  a  deprivation  makes  in  one's  daily 
life.  But  I  mention  my  infirmity  only  for  this  rea 
son  :  —  I  feel  grateful  to  you,  and  I  should  like  to 
know  what  manner  of  man  you  are.  Will  you  per 
mit  me  to  touch  your  face,  as  another  might  look 
upon  it?  " 

Tancredi  rose  and  approached  the  old  man,  whose 
keen  hearing  took  the  movement  for  an  answer. 
Phineas,  then,  saying  "  Pardon  me,"  ran  the  finger- 


IN  THE  HANDS   OF  THE   EXPERT    265 

tips  of  one  outstretched  hand  over  the  young  man's 
features. 

"  I  thank  you,"  said  Phineas,  "  you  have  an  un 
usual  face  and  a  fine  one  — 

"  Oh,  father,"  interrupted  Millicent,  "  you  really 
ought  to  add,  in  your  role  of  exemplar  to  the  young, 
that  '  handsome  is  what  handsome  does.' ' 

"  I  really  ought  to  address  my  animadversions 
much  nearer  home,  my  dear,"  the  old  man  retorted. 
"  Now,  Mr.  Tancredi,  if  we  may  talk  without  friv 
olous  interruption,  you  are  a  professor  at  Carteret 
College,  I  understand  ?  " 

And  Tancredi,  willing  to  humor  the  gentle  old 
man's  evident  interest,  and  not  unwilling,  perhaps, 
to  add  dignity  to  his  standing  in  the  sight  of  one 
who  seemed  prone  to  make  light  of  it,  told  briefly 
who  and  what  he  was. 

"  Ah,  I  thought  I  was  not  mistaken,"  Phineas 
exclaimed.  "  I  knew  of  your  father  for  many  years, 
a  brilliant,  and  —  what  is  rarer  —  an  absolutely 
conscientious  physician.  It  was  his  testimony  that 
cleared  that  unjustly  persecuted  man,  Garret  Oliver, 
in  the  great  poisoning  case  ten  years  —  no  —  twelve 
years  ago." 

"  Yes,  that  is  so,"  Tancredi  agreed,  pleased  to 
hear  his  father  praised.  "  He  stood  virtually  alone 
against  three  of  the  greatest  experts  in  the  coun- 
try." 


266      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

"  Two  of  them  were  honestly  mistaken,"  Phineas 
went  on,  "  but  the  third  was  not.  He  was  bribed, 
or  had  some  motive  to  conceal  the  truth." 

"  How  could  you  know  that,  my  dear  sir?  " 

"  I  knew  it  by  the  sound  of  his  voice,  just  as  I 
now  know  from  the  sound  of  yours  that  you,  like 
your  father,  would  prove  the  ready  champion  of  one 
unfortunate,  but  innocent." 

"  I  hope  I  would,"  replied  Tancredi,  with  a  depre 
cating  glance  toward  Millicent ;  and  he  rose  to  take 
leave. 

Constance,  who  looked  worried  and  distracted, 
had,  after  a  polite  acknowledgment  of  Tancredi's 
services  to  her,  excused  herself  some  time  before; 
so  Millicent  saw  the  young  physician  to  the  door. 

"  I  hope  for  the  sake  of  knight-errantry,"  she 
said,  "  that  you  will  be  equally  kind  and  attentive 
to  the  next  hapless  stranger  you  encounter.  Of 
course  you  will  encounter  another  one  before  night 
fall.  They  never  come  singly,  you  know." 

"  I  have  been  too  happy  in  the  outcome  of  my 
trifling  service,"  protested  Tancredi,  "  not  to  render 
any  other  that  might  offer  out  of  gratitude ;  "  and 
he  walked  away  from  the  house  in  a  more  exalted 
mood  than  was  usual  to  him. 

He  had  been  a  man  to  whom  woman  was  an  ab 
straction.  Living  quietly  at  his  father's  home,  too 
delicately  brought  up  to  fall  into  dissipation  of  any 


IN   THE   HANDS   OF   THE   EXPERT    267 

sort  in  his  student  days,  and  too  refined  to  be  at 
tracted  by  the  grosser  vices,  he  had  had  that  day 
a  new  experience. 

While  holding  Millicent  in  his  arms  he  had  been 
acutely  conscious  of  her  lovely  helplessness,  and  of 
the  rounded  little  form  that  he  supported.  If  she 
had  shown  any  timidity  or  foolish  resentment  when 
she  recovered  her  senses,  the  impression  would  not 
have  lasted.  He  would  have  resisted  its  influence 
over  him.  But  she  had  been  so  frank,  so  demure 
in  her  drollery,  so  free  from  all  thought  of  her  own 
attraction,  that  he  could  not  keep  from  enjoying  the 
remembrance  of  that  delightful  little  burden  he  had 
held  in  his  arms.  Her  mocking  ways,  too,  piqued 
his  interest,  and  he  resolved  that  he  would  take  an 
early  advantage  of  the  cordial  invitation  that  had 
been  pressed  on  him  by  the  household  and  try  his 
chances  again  in  what  already  was  beginning  to 
seem  to  him  the  fascinating  tourney  of  love. 

When  he  reached  his  own  room  at  the  college 
he  found  himself  disinclined  either  for  study  or 
writing.  The  image  of  Millicent  was  far  more 
vivid  in  his  mind  than  the  impression  of  mere 
printed  or  written  words.  So  he  closed  his  desk, 
and  went  out  for  a  walk.  It  was  early  in  the  eve 
ning,  and,  as  Tancredi  set  out  at  a  swinging  pace, 
he  soon  had  walked  out  of  the  built-up  streets,  and 
reached  the  suburbs.  He  was  still  reviewing  the 


268     THE   CASE   OF  PAUL  BREEN 

marvellous  events  of  the  day  —  itself  constituting  a 
turning-post  in  his  life  —  when  he  was  suddenly 
brought  back  to  earth  by  being  addressed :  — 

"  Excuse  me,  sir,  but  I  should  like  to  ask  a  few 
directions  from  you,  if  you  are  not  in  too  great  a 
hurry." 

It  was  Paul  Breen,  who,  under  the  guidance  of 
the  Providence  that  watches  over  those  who  walk 
in  physical  or  mental  sleep,  had  wandered  thus  far, 
unsuspected,  unobserved. 

Tancredi  saw  before  him  a  young  stranger  who 
interested  him  at  first  glance.  So  bowing,  and 
drawing  to  one  side  of  the  road,  he  replied :  — 

"  Glad  to  oblige  you,  I'm  sure.  What  can  I  do  ? 
You  seem  to  be  ill." 

"  Yes,"  Paul  replied,  "  I  am  in  anything  but  my 
normal  condition.  I  have  had  a  fever,  and  have 
been  subject  to  considerable  mental  strain  previous 
to  the  attack.  But  my  physical  condition  is  not  of 
primary  importance." 

This  stilted  language  awakened  Tancredi's  sus 
picions.  It  sounded  like  the  patter  of  a  professional 
beggar.  So  he  stiffened  a  little,  and  said  with  a 
tinge  of  sarcasm  :  — 

"  Ah,  is  it  so  ?  Perhaps  there  is  some  financial 
stringency?  " 

Paul  glanced  up  sharply,  and  then  moved  away 
as  if  hurt.  But  Tancredi,  noting  the  quick  change, 


IN  THE   HANDS  OF  THE   EXPERT    269 

added  impulsively,  "  I  beg  pardon ;  that  wasn't 
right.  Come,  now,  what  can  I  do  for  you?  " 

"  I  spoke  to  you,"  Paul  went  on,  "  because,  after 
observing  you  for  some  time,  I  judged  that  you 
would  understand  me  better  than  any  one  I  have 
seen  to-day.  In  my  present  state  of  mind  I  must  be 
cautious  what  I  do.  May  I  ask  what  is  your  busi 
ness  —  or  profession  ?  " 

"  I  am  professor  of  applied  therapeutics  at  Car- 
teret  College,  not  very  far  from  here." 

"  Ah,  I  hoped  you  were  a  physician.  Then  I  can 
speak  freely  to  you.  My  mental  state  is  abnormal. 
I  have  had  a  fever,  and,  though  the  crisis  is  past,  I 
am  not  yet  restored  to  the  full  use  of  my  memory 
or  reason.  To  speak  plainly,  I  cannot  dissociate  the 
subjective  and  the  objective  with  certainty.  Until 
I  have  recovered  myself,  I  do  not  dare  trust  my  own 
mental  conclusions.  There  are  reasons  —  reasons, 
I  do  not  yet  care  to  explain  —  why  I  must  keep  the 
secret  of  my  identity,  and  yet  I  am  not  capable  of 
directing  my  own  course.  For  instance,  I  don't 
know  how  I  came  to  this  spot.  In  incompetent 
hands,  I  might  be  judged  insane ;  but  I  believe  that 
my  state  of  mind  is  not  mania  though  it  certainly  is 
abnormal.  Do  you  follow  me  ?  " 

"  Perfectly,"  Tancredi  answered.  "  Now,  what 
can  I  do?" 

"  Is  it  not  possible  for  you  to  take  me  as  a  pa- 


270     THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

tient?  I  have  no  money  at  present,  it  is  true,  but 
I  have  that  with  me  which  can  be  turned  into  money. 
Is  it  not  possible  for  you  to  provide  a  quiet  retreat 
for  me  where  I  can  rest  until  my  trouble  vanishes 
or  culminates?  I  have  not  dared  ask  any  one  be 
fore  —  I  would  not  dare  ask  any  one  again." 

Paul  stopped,  and  put  both  hands  to  his  head. 
He  was  very  pale  in  the  half-light,  and  seemed 
weak;  but  there  had  been  no  beggar's  whine  in  his 
tone,  no  beggar's  furtive  scrutiny  in  his  glance. 

Tancredi  hesitated.  It  was  an  extraordinary  re 
quest,  and  his  compliance,  without  investigation, 
might  be  deemed  even  more  extraordinary.  But 
yet,  if  the  fragmentary  story  was  true,  if  this  young 
man,  whose  appearance  and  bearing,  so  incongruous 
to  his  dress,  in  some  mysterious  way  came  close  to 
his  heart,  was  really  in  such  sore  straits,  could  he 
refuse  to  give  him  shelter  and  care,  at  least  for  a 
few  days?  He  thought  of  the  blind  Crier's  words, 
"  I  know  that  you,  like  your  father,  would  prove  the 
ready  champion  of  one  unfortunate,  but  innocent." 
He  thought  of  pretty  Millicent,  with  the  mocking 
light  in  her  eyes,  accusing  him  of  knight-errantry, 
and  of  his  own  pledge  that  out  of  gratitude  he 
would  render  the  next  service  that  offered,  and  he 
decided.  He  drew  Paul  over  to  a  wayside  lamp. 
"  Let  me  feel  your  pulse,"  he  said. 

Then  Tancredi  examined,  as  well  as  he  could,  the 


IN  THE  HANDS   OF  THE   EXPERT    271 

pupils  of  the  eyes,  and  took  a  hasty  look  at  the  con 
dition  of  the  skin  and  lips. 

"  You  are  right,"  he  concluded.  "  You  have  had 
fever;  you  certainly  are  not  mentally  normal;  and 
yet  you  have  no  signs  of  mania.  I  think  you  have 
judged  your  own  state  very  ably.  I  will  look  after 
you  for  a  day  or  two,  and  then  perhaps  we  can  talk 
with  a  better  understanding.  Come  to  my  rooms. 
I  can  easily  make  a  place  for  you,  and  nobody  will 
see  you,  or  know  that  you  are  there." 

"Thank  you,"  murmured  Paul.  "I  trust  you; 
I  know  that  I  can  rest." 

Tancredi  walked  slowly  along  until  they  came  to 
the  city,  and  then  took  a  carriage.  Once  in  his 
rooms,  he  put  his  patient  to  bed,  whereupon  the  poor 
young  fellow  sank  at  once  into  a  stertorous  sleep 
that  betokened  complete  exhaustion.  Tancredi,  all 
the  physician's  instinct  aroused,  watched  him  nar 
rowly,  convinced  that  —  be  the  man  what  he  might 
—  there  was  no  shamming  in  that  heavy  breathing 
or  that  quick,  light  pulse.  The  patient's  left  hand 
hung  over  the  side  of  the  bed,  and  Tancredi  noticed 
on  the  third  finger  a  gold  ring,  one  side  of  which 
had  been  flattened  to  receive  several  diamonds  in  a 
gypsy  setting.  Tancredi  softly  slipped  it  off,  and, 
taking  it  to  the  lamp,  examined  it  closely.  The 
ring  was  an  antique,  engraved  with  Arabic  letter 
ing,  and  evidently  of  much  value.  He  replaced  it 


272     THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

gently,  at  the  same  time  noticing  the  delicacy  of  the 
finger-nails  and  the  spatulate  finger-ends. 

"  He  will  sleep  for  an  hour  or  so  yet,"  said  Tan- 
credi,  "  and  then  he  must  have  something  to  eat." 

Calling  the  janitor,  Tancredi  told  him  that  he  had 
a  friend  in  his  room  who  must  on  no  account  be  dis 
turbed.  Then  he  went  to  a  late  supper,  reflecting 
upon  the  events  that  had  made  the  day  so  unusual  in 
the  regularity  of  his  life. 

Paul  was  tossing  uneasily,  and  waked  when  Tan 
credi  came  in,  and  at  first  tried  to  hide  his  face ;  but, 
when  he  had  recovered  himself,  smiled  gratefully 
and  held  out  his  hand.  Tancredi  said  nothing,  but 
held  the  weak  fingers  firmly  but  softly  in  his  own. 
Then  Paul  spoke,  drawing  his  hand  away.  "  You 
must  take  this  ring,"  he  said  slowly,  "  while  I  have 
intelligence  enough  to  give  it  to  you." 

He  drew  the  ring  from  his  own  hand,  and  put  it 
on  Tancredi's  finger.  The  young  professor  tried  to 
restore  it,  but  Paul  resisted.  "  No,  no,"  he  said. 
"  You  must  keep  it ;  it  is  all  I  have  to  give  you  — 
and  you  have  saved  my  life,  and  you  may  save  my 
reason." 

"  If  I  can  do  that,  I  will  keep  the  ring,"  Tancredi 
answered  to  humor  him,  and  then,  smiling  satis- 
fiedly,  as  one  who  had  done  all  he  could,  Paul  sank 
again  into  that  heavy,  stertorous  sleep. 


CHAPTER    XIX 

THREADING   THE    MAZE 

TANCREDI  found  that,  in  assuming  charge  of  this 
stranger,  he  had  brought  upon  himself  cares  and 
responsibilities  most  engrossing  and  trying;  yet  he 
did  not  repent  of  his  knight-errantry,  for  his  was  a 
nature  that  responded  with  prompt  affection  to  de 
pendence  and  trust. 

Paul,  relieved  of  the  necessity  of  providing  for 
himself,  relaxed  physically  and  mentally.  For  the 
first  few  days  his  mind  wandered  at  frequent  inter 
vals,  and  Tancredi  watched  him  unremittingly.  In 
the  earliest  hours  of  his  delirium  Paul's  mind  was 
full  of  his  prison-life,  and  he  rehearsed  parts  of  it 
over  and  over.  This  rambling  talk,  at  first  entirely 
unintelligible,  by  repetition  and  variation  became  in 
Tancredi's  analytic  mind  more  and  more  coherent ; 
and  he  soon  had  no  difficulty  in  piecing  together 
certain  leading  facts.  He  was  sure  that  Paul  had 
been  imprisoned,  that  he  had  escaped,  that  his  friend 
in  this  escape  was  a  fellow-convict,  and  that  he 
greatly  feared  recognition  and  recapture.  This  fear 

273 


274      THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

was  made  patent  by  the  lack  of  the  faintest  allusion, 
even  in  Paul's  wildest  moments,  to  his  own  identity, 
or  to  the  crime  for  which  he  had  been  condemned. 

The  poor  young  fellow  made  long  speeches  about 
the  cruelty  of  imprisoning  an  innocent  man,  and 
again  and  again  would  repeat  these  words :  —  "I 
am  innocent,  as  a  new-born  babe  —  as  innocent  as 
a  new-born  babe.  Prove  it?  I  can't  prove  it.  I 
know  nothing  about  the  matter.  I  was  asleep,  I 
tell  you,  and  I  know  nothing  about  it,  nothing,  noth 
ing,  nothing.  I  am  as  innocent  — "  and  so  on 
monotonously. 

And  Tancredi  came  to  believe  in  this  innocence. 
If  the  old  proverb  "  in  vino  veritas  "  be  true  how 
much  more  true  were  these  words  uttered  in  de 
lirium?  Besides,  as  Tancredi  argued  to  himself,  the 
man's  mind,  free  from  moral  restraint,  would  tend 
to  recur  to  and  renew  its  strongest  impressions.  If 
he  had  committed  a  crime  for  which  he  had  been 
condemned,  that  crime  would  be  the  ruling  thought, 
and  its  punishment  a  mere  incident  to  it.  Yet  this 
young  man,  whose  whole  appearance  proved  sensi 
tiveness  and  unusual  refinement,  reviewed  no  scene 
of  violence,  no  detail  of  guilty  action,  dwelling  only 
upon  his  innocence  of  wrong,  his  ignorance  of 
guilt. 

With  this  knowledge  that  he  was  harboring  an 
escaped  convict,  and  this  belief  in  the  protestations 


THREADING  THE   MAZE          275 

of  innocence,  Tancredi  found  himself  in  something 
of  a  dilemma.  He  realized  that  he  must  conceal  the 
inmate  of  his  rooms  from  every  eye  but  his  own; 
and  yet  the  duplicity  thus  involved  cost  him  great 
anxiety,  to  say  nothing  of  its  inconvenience.  Luck 
ily,  his  servant,  an  old  colored  man,  was  both  deaf 
and  stupid,  and  Tancredi  satisfied  him  perfectly  by 
the  statement  that  he  was  "  caring  for  a  sick  cousin 
from  the  country."  But  in  the  college  there  was 
published  by  some  of  the  wilder  students  a  weekly 
periodical,  wherein  scurrility  was  often  made  to 
serve  as  wit.  This  sheet,  named  "  The  Horrid 
Grind,"  in  some  way  got  information  of  the  mys 
terious  inmate  of  the  professor's  rooms,  and  made 
this  lucky  find  the  basis  of  some  rather  questionable 
jokes.  These  annoyed  Tancredi  excessively;  for  he 
feared  that  they  might  lead  to  an  inquiry  as  to  the 
identity  of  his  guest  —  a  thing  which  he  would  have 
resisted  even  had  he  known  that  Paul  was  guilty, 
since  illness  to  a  physician  wast  excuse  enough  for 
keeping  a  patient  out  of  reach  of  the  law. 

Tancredi,  therefore,  refused  to  make  the  slightest 
response  to  the  slurs  upon  him  —  printed  or  spoken 
in  jest  —  biding  his  time  until  the  sick  man  could  be 
moved.  In  about  three  weeks,  Paul  was  better,  his 
senses  returned,  and  he  recalled  the  meeting  with 
Tancredi,  though  all  since  then,  and  much  that  had 
happened  previously,  was  vague  and  dreamlike.  He 


276     THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

described  the  state  of  his  mind,  and  asked  whether 
it  were  best  for  him  to  try  to  piece  together  his 
scattered  impressions. 

"  By  no  means,"  Tancredi  replied  with  profes 
sional  gravity.  "  During  your  illness  you  have  told 
me  enough  to  let  me  know  you  have  passed  through 
some  terrible  experiences  —  " 

"  I  have  done  no  wrong,  I  am  sure,  though  I 
remember  being  imprisoned,"  Paul  interrupted. 

"  I  believe  you,"  Tancredi  continued,  "  so  say  no 
more.  You  have,  then,  been  through  some  crisis 
that  has  stunned  your  intellect,  and  much  of  your 
brain  is  dormant.  That  is  one  of  nature's  methods 
of  recovering  from  shock,  and  you  must  do  nothing 
to  interfere  with  her  process.  You  have  been 
nearly  a  month  with  me,  but  no  one  has  any  sus 
picion  of  your  identity." 

"  Not  you?     Haven't  I  told  you  my  name?  " 

"  No,  nor  do  I  wish  to  know  it.  But  for  our  own 
convenience,  now,  and  in  a  plan  I  am  about  to 
suggest,  you  must  have  some  name  or  another. 
What  do  you  suggest?  I  am  going  to  pass  you  off 
as  my  cousin." 

"Will  Peter  do?"  asked  Paul  with  a  faint 
smile. 

"  Peter  will  do  capitally ;  Peter  Tancredi,  since 
you  are  my  kinsman.  How  do  you  do,  Cousin 
Peter?" 


THREADING  THE  MAZE          277 

"  But  you  must  have  seen  in  the  newspapers  —  " 
Paul  persisted. 

"  I  never  read  them,"  Tancredi  answered.  "  It 
is  a  strange  admission  to  make,  but  I  have  my  rea 
sons.  To  me,  there  is  no  half-way  course.  It  is 
'  drink  deep  or  touch  not,'  and  I  prefer  to  forego 
them  entirely,  learning  the  leading  events  of  the 
day  from  periodicals  that  have  time  to  sift  and 
arrange  the  news.  But,  more  than  this,  since  you 
have  been  here  I  have  shunned  the  very  mention  of 
current  happenings.  I  have  adopted  a  course  in 
this  case  that  satisfies  my  conscience  as  much  as  it 
gratifies  my  inclinations;  but  I  realize  that  I  am 
acting  outside  of  the  law.  Now,  I  have  no  desire 
to  know,  nor  do  I  intend  to  know,  the  nature  of  the 
charge  against  you,  since  it  might  add  weight  to  my 
responsibilities,  while  in  no  event  could  it  change 
my  resolution.  To  me  you  are  a  sick  man  who  has 
escaped  from  prison,  and  is  innocent  of  wrongdoing. 
As  your  physician  and  friend,  I  advise  you  to  also 
live  only  in  the  present  until  your  health  is  restored 
in  body  and  mind.  I  am  about  to  send  you  away  to 
the  mountains  for  a  rest  —  ' 

"  Can  you  afford  to  do  so  much  ?  " 

"  Readily.  It  will  cost  little.  Besides,  you  bring 
me  an  opportunity  to  test  certain  theories  of  mine. 
I  have  long  believed  that  mental  troubles  demand  a 
complete  removal  from  city  life,  and  a  return  to 


278      THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

nature.  I  wish  to  test  the  worth  of  that  cure  in 
your  case.  I  shall  consider  the  experiment  well 
worth  its  slight  cost.  I  hold  that  strains,  anxieties, 
noise,  dust  and  all  the  unnatural  friction  of  city  life 
aggravate  always,  and  sometimes  cause,  mental 
aberration.  Certainly,  they  interfere  with  nature's 
curative  processes." 

"  My  dear  Professor,"  Paul  remarked,  looking  up 
gratefully  from  his  reclining  chair,  "  my  mental 
faculties  are  not  so  dull  that  you  need  disguise  your 
great  kindness  in  a  wrapping  of  scientific  theory." 

"  It  is  nevertheless  true,"  insisted  Tancredi. 
"  See  —  I  have  stated  my  theory  in  a  treatise." 
And  he  took  a  book  from  the  shelves  and  handed 
it  to  Paul. 

Paul  looked  at  it  in  silence.  Then  he  opened  it, 
and  read  a  few  lines.  His  face  flushed,  and  he 
seemed  worried.  "  This  book,"  he  said,  speaking 
slowly,  as  if  feeling  his  way,  "  is  not  new  to  me. 
It  is  a  part  of  the  past  I  have  lost.  But  I  have  read 
it,  or  something  from  it  I  am  sure.  If  I  —  only 
could  —  recall  where  —  Listen,  now ;  hear  me 
repeat  without  looking:  '  Life  cannot  exist  without 
heat  and  moisture.  Complete  desi —  Oh,  God 
help  me,  I  can't  remember !  "  He  stopped  abruptly, 
covering  his  eyes  with  his  hand.  Any  attempt  to 
force  his  memory  made  his  head  swim. 

Tancredi  took  the  book  from  him,  and  replaced 


THREADING  THE  MAZE          279 

it  on  the  shelves.  "  Now,"  he  announced  with  a 
physician's  positiveness,  as  he  turned  to  leave  the 
room,  "  I  am  going  to  take  you  away  to-night. 
You  are  physically  equal  to  the  journey,  and  men 
tally  you  need  it." 

Then  he  made  the  necessary  arrangements,  sup 
plying  Paul  with  such  things  as  he  required,  and 
laying  upon  him  the  while  the  severest  injunctions 
that  he  was  to  pass  his  time  in  the  mountains  in 
imitating  the  box-turtles  he  would  find  in  the  woods. 
"  Go  slow,"  he  said.  "  Eat  and  drink  what  you 
like ;  don't  fret  or  think  more  than  you  can  help ; 
and  shut  yourself  up  tight  in  your  shell  when  any 
thing  occurs  to  annoy  you.  Remember,  these  are 
your  physician's  orders.  As  to  your  future,  leave 
that  to  me.  I  will  keep  watch  of  you,  and,  if  neces 
sary,  will  be  your  alter  ego.  You  know  Latin?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  Paul  answered.  "  I  believe  I  had  a 
fine  education  once.  I  remember  books,  though 
events  are  a  terra  incognita." 

"  Then  I  predict  your  recovery.  Your  mind  is 
only  locally  affected.  We  must  increase  the  healthy 
area,  and  that  the  mountains  will  do  for  you.  You 
will  surely  be  yourself  again." 

"  But  still  your  Cousin  Peter,"  added  Paul. 

Late  that  night,  when  all  was  quiet,  a  closed 
carnage  came  to  the  door  of  the  dormitory,  and 
Paul,  wrapped  in  a  long  ulster,  was  assisted  into  it 


by  Tancredi,  and  they  drove  away  unnoticed  except 
by  Bullion,  the  College  policeman,  who  was  at  some 
distance.  They  hurried  to  the  railroad  station,  and 
there  took  a  sleeping-car  section.  In  two  hours 
they  were  at  the  small  village  of  Hill  Farms,  in  the 
mountains,  and  thence,  at  first  morning  light,  they 
drove  some  fifteen  miles  further.  Tancredi  made 
all  arrangements  for  Paul's  comfort  at  the  Tiptop 
Cottage,  the  remote  house  of  some  farming  people 
with  whom  he  had  boarded  during  a  vacation,  and 
the  next  day  returned  to  Carteret. 

Freed  from  the  necessity  of  caring  for  his  un 
known  protege,  the  young  professor  could  follow 
his  own  inclination ;  and,  upon  the  next  opportunity, 
he  went  to  Hamlin  and  called  at  the  house  of 
Phineas  Twigg.  He  was  received  by  Constance, 
since  Millicent  happened  to  be  out,  and  his  dis 
appointment  at  not  finding  her  was  a  sharp  reminder 
to  Tancredi  of  what  was  becoming  his  dearest  wish 
and  strongest  purpose. 

Constance  greeted  him  cordially.  "  I  fear  we  did 
not  make  you  understand,"  she  said,  "  how  glad  we 
should  be  to  see  you." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  understood,"  replied  Tancredi  posi 
tively;  "and,  if  it  had  not  been  for  an  imperative 
duty,  I  should  have  come  a  fortnight  earlier.  But 
I  had  to  care  for  a  friend  who  was  ill.  Is  Mr. 
Twigg  in  ?  " 


THREADING  THE  MAZE          281 

"  He  went  out  with  his  daughter,  but  both  will 
return  before  long.  Meanwhile,  would  you  be  so 
good  as  to  look  over  a  little  book  I  have,  a  little 
note-book,  in  which  I  am  deeply  interested?  It  is 
filled  with  formulae  and  symbols  that  are  unintel 
ligible  to  me.  It  would  be  such  a  favor." 

"  Please  let  me  try  to  help  you,"  said  Tancredi. 

While  Constance  was  absent,  to  fetch  the  note 
book,  Millicent  returned,  and  came  into  the  sitting- 
room  with  her  father.  Entering  from  the  brighter 
light,  for  an  instant  she  did  not  recognize  the  tall 
young  man  who  rose  and  bowed ;  then  she  cried  out 
suddenly : 

"  Oh,  it's  you ;    it's  you !     I  am  so  glad !  " 

Millicent  flushed  like  a  little  Aurora,  looking 
prettier  than  Tancredi  had  remembered  her.  In 
fact,  he  had  found  difficulty  in  retaining  a  clear 
image  of  her  face,  simply  because  he  was  so  desirous 
of  doing  so.  But  a  moment  later,  her  expression 
changed  into  a  smile,  dubious  and  tantalizing. 

Phineas  greeted  the  Professor  warmly,  but  less 
effusively,  and,  when  they  were  seated  again,  Con 
stance  entered  with  the  silver-bound  note-book, 
which  she  handed  to  Tancredi.  He  examined  it 
curiously,  and  finally  opened  it.  One  of  the  first 
passages  he  found  among  the  written  memoranda 
was  a  list  of  references  to  his  own  books  —  brief 
extracts  with  notes  and  comments  upon  them. 


282      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

"  Where  did  you  get  this  book  ?  "  he  asked ;  and 
in  reply  Constance  explained  how  she  had  seen  it  in 
a  pawnbroker's  window  among  the  pledged  articles 
offered  for  sale,  and,  as  she  recognized  it  as  the 
property  of  a  dear  friend,  she  had  bought  it,  think 
ing  it  possibly  would  serve  to  clear  up  a  mystery. 

"  I  am  going  to  ask  you  to  take  it  with  you,"  she 
continued,  "  and  examine  thoroughly  the  different 
notes  and  marks  in  it  —  I  need  not  warn  you  to 
preserve  it  with  the  utmost  care.  There  may  be 
something  significant,  something  of  importance, 
which  we  cannot  detect.  The  owner  is  a  dear  friend 
of  mine,  one  in  great  trouble,  and  —  " 

At  this  moment  Constance  was  interrupted  by  the 
entrance  of  two  callers  —  the  daughters  of  a  neigh 
bor.  They  came  in  with  bustling  cordiality,  and  a 
flow  of  words  an  auctioneer  might  envy. 

"  Dear  Constance  —  and  dear  Millicent  —  "  they 
chimed,  "  you  must  have  entirely  given  up  any 
hope  of  seeing  us,  didn't  you?  But  really  we  have 
been  so  very,  very  busy  with  church-work  —  you 
know  that  runs  away  with  one's  time  —  and  with 
our  home  duties,  that  we  —  How  do  you  do,  Mr. 
Twigg?  You  needn't  say  you're  well,  for  you  are 
always  well,  and  how  you  manage  to  keep  well  in 
the  horrid,  stuffy  air  of  those  court-rooms  —  " 

After  about  ten  minutes  of  this,  Tancredi  found 
that  he  must  excuse  himself  in  order  to  catch  a 


THREADING  THE   MAZE         283 

train.  Again,  Millicent  accompanied  him  to  the 
door,  though  with  a  reluctant  air. 

"  Constance  motioned  me  to  remind  you  to  be 
sure  to  see  what  you  can  make  out  of  that  note 
book,"  she  explained. 

"  Of  course,  I  will,"  returned  the  professor, 
"  but  I  have  hardly  heard  enough  to  quite  under 
stand  —  " 

"  You  must  have  heard  of  the  Breen  murder 
case,"  retorted  the  girl.  "  I  believe  there  was  a 
special  report  of  it  issued  for  hermits.  Well, 
the  victim  was  a  young  girl  whom  Constance 
knew." 

"  There  is  so  much  of  that  sort  of  news  one 
cannot  keep  the  run  of  it "  —  he  began  apolo 
getically. 

"  Nor  the'  walk  of  it,  either,  I  imagine.  This 
book,  then,  we  believe  was  once  in  the  possession  of 
that  young  girl.  And  Constance  Sanderson  was 
the  fiancee  of  her  brother,  who  was  charged  with 
the  crime." 

"  Poor  Miss  Sanderson,"  Tancredi  exclaimed, 
"  I  am  so  sorry  for  her.  That  explains  her  melan 
choly  and  distraught  air.  What  became  of  him? 
Was  he  —  " 

"  Oh,  dear !  He  was  sent  to  prison  for  life,  of 
course,  and  we  all  believe  him  innocent  and  are 
trying  to  unravel  the  mysteries  of  the  case.  That 


284      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL  BREEN 

is  why  we  want  to  know  just  what  this  little  book 
contains;  and  that  is  why,  too,  it  may  be  important 
to  trace  its  history  —  " 

"  The  very  point  I  was  about  to  suggest.  Now 
wasn't  it  most  unusual  that  such  a  book  as  this,  with 
such  an  owner,  should  have  been  pawned?  " 

"  Indeed,  it  was.  Father  thinks  we  should  try 
in  every  way  to  find  out  who  pawned  it,  but  — ' 

"  Let  me  undertake  that,"  Tancredi  interrupted 
eagerly.  "  Your  father  is  incapacitated,  and  it  is 
not  a  task  for  young  ladies  — 

"  Gladly,"  Millicent  answered  with  a  show  of 
genuine  feeling,  as  she  gave  him  the  address  of  the 
pawnbroker's  shop.  "  You  are  so  very  kind  that 
you  tempt  us  to  impose  upon  you.  But  now  you 
must  go  or  you  will  miss  that  train  —  " 

"  As  if  I  would  let  a  hundred  trains  —  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  must,  or  we  might  think  that  there 
was  something  fictitious  about  your  assurances. 
Forgive  me  for  having  delayed  you."  And,  with  a 
provoking  little  courtesy,  Millicent  closed  the  door, 
satisfied  that  she  had  regained  the  ground,  yielded 
through  the  impulsiveness  of  her  greeting. 

But  Tancredi  thought  of  that  greeting,  notwith 
standing,  finding  far  more  hope  in  it  than  he  found 
despair  in  her  sharp  words,  to  which  the  girl's 
playful  manner,  alternating  with  a  bearing  of  con 
fidence  and  reliance,  gave  a  delightful  inconsistency. 


THREADING  THE  MAZE          285 

He  thought  so  much  of  it  that  it  in  no  wise  occurred 
to  him  that  there  might  be  some  possible  connection 
between  his  unknown  patient  and  Constance's  unfor 
tunate  lover.  Why  should  it  have  occurred,  indeed  ? 
Nothing  had  been  said  of  an  escape ;  and  there  were 
so  many  dreadful  crimes  committed,  leading  to  so 
many  far  more  dreadful  miscarriages  of  justice, 
that  it  was  not  strange  that  Phineas  Twigg's  peace 
ful  home  had  been  affected  by  one  tragedy  even  as 
his  quiet  collegiate  retreat  had  been  touched  by 
another.  Besides,  he  was  under  the  impression  from 
Constance's  anxious,  unstudied  words  that  the  note 
book  had  belonged  to  the  young  girl  —  an  idea  Mil- 
licent  had  unwittingly  confirmed  by  her  statement 
that  it  had  been  in  Edith's  possession. 

So  Tancredi,  walking  on  air,  and  oblivious  of  the 
meshes  in  his  pathway,  hurried  to  the  pawnbroker's, 
notwithstanding  the  need  for  his  catching  a  train. 
He  found  the  proprietor  in  charge,  behind  the  desk, 
while  the  small  boy,  whom  Adolph  had  so  disas 
trously  encountered,  was  tying  up  packages  in  the 
rear  of  the  shop.  Tancredi  produced  the  note-book, 
explaining  that  it  was  an  unredeemed  pledge  re 
cently  bought  by  a  friend,  and  that  it  was  important 
to  know  just  when  and  by  whom  the  pledge  had 
been  made. 

The  pawnbroker  made  no  objection,  but  found 
the  entry  in  his  register.  Tancredi  carefully  made 


286      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

note  of  the  date,  and  of  the  fact  that  the  article  had 
been  pawned  by  "Ed  Flyaway;"  then  he  asked, 
rather  hopelessly,  whether  the  pawnbroker  had  any 
remembrance  of  the  man  who  had  left  it. 

"  No,  sir,"  was  the  answer.  "  None  whatever. 
But  my  boy  may  know.  It's  his  writing." 

Whereupon  the  boy  came  forward. 

"  There's  a  deal  of  stew  about  that  little  book," 
said  he.  "  I  remember  the  whole  thing  —  the  whole 
thing,  see?  First  off,  it  was  spouted  by  a  regular 
old  soaker,  a  hobo;  and  while  he  was  here  he  tried 
to  pick  a  pocket,  got  scragged  and  went  off  with  a 
cop  at  his  neck.  That  was  the  fust  act  of  the 
drammer.  Then  come  in  two  of  the  prettiest  gals 
I  ever  see  —  when  the  time  was  up  on  the  thing, 
you  know ;  and  they  bought  it,  and  their  hands  was 
a-shaking,  and  one  of  them  was  all  dampish  around 
the  lights.  Act  two  times.  Then  come  in  the 
villain,  I'm  a-thinkin'.  Anyhow,  it  was  Mr.  Some 
body-big,  and  he  took  down  the  entry  from  the 
book,  and  tried  to  tip  me  off's  if  I  was  a  waiter.  If 
he'd  talked  as  a  gentleman  —  same  as  you  —  I  could 
have  told  him  what  I'm  telling  you.  Then  you 
come  —  and  you're  the  walkin'  gentleman,  or  the 
lovyer  most  likely.  So,  if  you  want  to  find  out 
where  the  book  came  from,  you'll  have  to  seek  the 
hobo  what  was  jugged." 

Tancredi  thanked  them  gratefully,  and  went  out 


THREADING  THE  MAZE          287 

to  catch  his  convenient  train ;  while  the  boy  remarked 
to  his  father : 

"  Old  man  —  he's  the  real  thing.    The  other  was 
a  fake." 


CHAPTER    XX 

THE    COUNTERPLOTTING 

WHEN  Richard  Naylor,  "  The  Private  Detective 
Agency,"  had  returned  to  report  the  failure  of  his 
attempt  to  purloin  the  note-book  from  Constance  in 
the  station,  he  found  his  patron  in  a  state  of  nervous 
rage  over  Paul's  escape  and  continued  immunity 
from  recapture. 

"  Don't  tell  me,"  Adolph  stormed,  when  the  story 
had  been  told,  "  about  the  interference  of  a  gentler 
manly  stranger.  Gentlemanly  strangers  find  it 
advisable  at  such  times  to  be  looking  the  other  way. 
You  say  this  man  got  on  the  train  for  Nadonk  with 
the  girls?  Well,  I  hear  that  mewling  old  hypocrite 
of  a  Phineas  Twigg  went  there  also  a  couple  of  days 
later.  Why  this  sudden  migration  to  a  little  hole  of 
a  town  just  across  the  river  from  Roscoe  prison?  I 
don't  know  now,  but  I  intend  to  know,  and  some 
definite  information  about  this  stranger  of  yours 
may  help  me  in  doing  so.  Find  him,  I  say,  if  you 
want  further  favors  from  me.  Let  me  know  who 
he  is,  what  he  does,  where  he  goes.  I  should  think 

288 


THE   COUNTERPLOTTING          289 

you  would  be  glad  of  the  job;  he  seems  to  have 
tossed  <you  around  in  a  rough  sort  of  way." 

"  Damn  him,"  Naylor  muttered  through  his 
teeth ;  "  and  damn  her,  too  —  " 

"  What's  that  ?  "  demanded  Adolph  sharply. 

"  Oh,  I  only  mean  that  sharp-tongued  young 
woman,  sir,  that  goes  so  much  with  Miss  Sanderson. 
I  shouldn't  mind  putting  her  nose  out  of  joint; 
she  has  a  way  witht  her  that  would  aggravate  a 
saint." 

"  Oh,  it's  Miss  Twigg,  you  mean.  You  may 
curse  her  all  you  please  for  all  of  me.  I  wouldn't 
be  averse  myself  to  the  chance  of  teaching  her  a 
well-deserved  lesson;  and  here  is  where  the  infor 
mation  I  require  may  be  useful  in  one  way  if  it 
fails  in  another.  You  say  this  young  fellow  seemed 
greatly  taken  with  her.  Well,  then,  if  you  pipe  her 
for  a  day  or  two  you  may  come  across  him.  There's 
a  clue  for  you.  Hell!  if  I  weren't  so  tied  up  with 
this  campaign  of  Governor  Strain  for  the  Presi 
dential  nomination,  I  could  out-detect  a  dozen  of 
you  so-called  detectives !  " 

This  advice,  when  acted  upon,  had  proved  sound ; 
for  the  dingy  man  who  had  watched  Millicent  and 
Tancredi,  from  the  further  side  of  a  tree,  at  the 
time  of  the  trolley  accident  in  New  Chester,  was 
Richard  Naylor. 

Naylor  followed  on  foot  the  cab  in  which  they 


290      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

drove  away,  which  he  could  easily  do  since  Tancredi 
had  cautioned  the  cabman  to  drive  slowly  —  think 
ing  any  jolting  might  do  Millicent  harm.  He 
arrived  at  the  station  almost  as  soon  as  they,  and 
learned  from  the  guard  at  the  gate  that  Tancredi 
had  bought  tickets  for  Hamlin.  With  this  he  rested 
for  the  present,  not  caring  to  risk  a  recognition  by 
so  decided  and  athletic  a  cavalier,  and  being  con 
vinced  from  what  he  had  seen  that  they  had  been 
in  the  trolley-car  by  appointment.  He,  therefore, 
gave  an  accurate  description  of  Tancredi  to  his  keen 
est  assistant,  a  young  fellow  named  Staples,  and 
assigned  him  to  the  task  of  watching  the  Twigg 
house,  and  tracking  Tancredi,  when  next  he  called, 
to  his  home. 

Staples  hung  about  corners  and  lounged  in  an 
adjacent  billiard-room  for  two  or  three  weeks,  with 
out  the  slightest  success,  and  then  became  indif 
ferent.  Hence  it  happened  that  he  was  "  laying- 
off  "  in  a  different  part  of  the  town  the  first  time 
Tancredi  called  after  having  established  Paul  in 
the  mountains;  but,  a  few  days  later,  he  had  the 
good  luck  to  observe  a  young  man,  answering  the 
description,  in  close  conversation  with  Phineas 
Twigg  on  the  block  below  the  house. 

Once  certain  of  his  man,  Staples  hung  on  to  the 
trail  with  a  pertinacity  and  shrewdness  worthy  of  a 
better  cause.  He  shadowed  Tancredi  all  the  way  to 


THE   COUNTERPLOTTING         291 

Carteret,  and  then  to  his  rooms  in  the  College. 
Knowing  no  reason  for  being  cautious,  and  con 
fident  that  he  had  not  been  noticed,  he  marched 
boldly  up  the  stairs  to  the  door  and  rapped.  The 
young  professor  himself  opened  the  door  in 
response. 

"  Excuse  me,  sir,"  Staples  asked,  "  but  are  you 
connected  with  the  College  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  am  one  of  the  faculty,"  Tancredi 
answered. 

"  Thank  you.  I  was  told  to  see  one  of  the  pro 
fessors,  but  I  have  forgotten  the  name.  I  think  he 
was  in  the  law  department  —  is  that  your  depart 
ment,  sir  ?  " 

"No;  I  am  connected  with  the  medical  school." 

"  Possibly  it  was  the  medical  school.  You  are 
Professor  — 

"  James  Tancredi." 

"No,  that  is  not  the  name;  at  least  I  think  it 
isn't.  But  I  have  a  memorandum  at  home  and  can 
call  again.  I  was  passing,  and  I  thought  —  I  am 
sorry  to  bother  you,  Professor." 

"  No  trouble  at  all,"  said  Tancredi,  as  he  closed 
the  door  at  once  upon  his  visitor  and  the  incident. 

When  Richard  Naylor  received  Staples'  report,  he 
lost  no  time  before  making  a  trip  to  Carteret,  and 
there,  by  gaming  the  confidence  of  Bullion,  the 
College  policeman,  he  was  able  in  a  short  time  to 


292      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL  BREEN 

learn  a  great  deal  about  Professor  Tancredi  and  his 
doings  —  both  real  and  imaginary.  He  confided  to 
the  policeman  that  he  had  come  to  town  in  the  inter 
est  of  a  young  friend  of  his  —  a  young  lady,  whose 
family  he  knew  very  well.  "  I  am,  while  not  ex 
actly  a  relative,"  he  explained,  "  an  intimate  asso 
ciate  of  her  father's,  and,  as  this  young  professor, 
who  seems  rather  fly,  is  keeping  company  with 
Katie  —  There !  I  didn't  mean  to  name  any  names. 
We  will  call  her  Miss  Brown  —  we  naturally  would 
like  to  learn  if  he  is  all  right,  you  know." 

"  You  can't  tell  much  about  any  of  'em,"  replied 
honest  Bullion,  mysteriously ;  "  especially  the  quiet 
ones." 

"  That's  so,  and  that  is  just  why  it  is  necessary 
for  folks  like  you  and  me  and  my  friends  the 
Browns  to  be  careful  when  those  that  hold  them 
selves  as  much  better  takes  an  interest  in  any  of 
our  women." 

"  Them's  my  sentiments,"  agreed  Bullion,  his 
sympathy  aroused.  "  Young  girls  like  to  fly  high, 
with  never  a  thought  about  falling  low.  The  Pro 
fessor  is  a  good  sort,  and  has  allus  been  polite  to 
me,  but,  seein'  it's  you,  I  don't  mind  saying  that 
there  have  been  stories  of  doings  in  his  -rooms. 
And,  while  I  was  on  duty  a  night  or  so  ago,  I  saw 
him  sneak  somebody  out  at  a  late  hour,  and  both 
get  into  a  carriage  and  drive  off.  Since  then,  he  has 


THE    COUNTERPLOTTING         293 

been  going  back  and  forth,  some'eres,  and  it's  my 
belief—" 

But  this  belief  need  not  be  specified.  It  was  all 
that  was  wanted;  and  Naylor  made  haste  to  report 
his  discovery  to  his  employer.  Adolph  listened  with 
incredulity.  He  refused  to  consider  that  there 
might  be  a  woman  in  the  case,  arguing  that  Tan- 
credi  would  not  carry  on  an  intrigue  in  so  shameless 
and  foolhardy  a  fashion. 

"  Don't  you  see,"  Adolph  argued,  "  that,  while  a 
college  room  is  the  last  place  in  the  world  for  that 
sort  of  thing,  it  is  a  very  different  matter  when  it 
comes  to  hiding  a  fugitive  from  justice  —  a  man? 
Why,  you  thick-witted  numskull,  you  have  blun 
dered  into  a  find  that  may  put  more  money  into  your 
hands  than  you  ever  had  in  your  life.  I  was  right, 
I  was  right,  in  the  clue  I  gave  you.  Here  is  a  young 
fellow,  in  communication  with  Paul  Breen's  friends, 
who  is  hiding  somebody,  and  at  the  same  time  suf 
fering  himself  to  be  thought  a  rake,  rather  than 
open  his  mouth  to  defend  himself.  Naylor,  you're  a 
long-eared  ass.  No  other  term  hits  you.  You  just 
get  on  your  clearest  pair  of  spectacles  and  hie  your 
self  to  the  College  as  quick  as  the  Lord  will  let  you, 
and,  when  you've  set  your  eye  on  this  Tancredi 
again,  don't  you  ever  lose  him.  You'll  land  Paul 
Breen  sure.  But  when  you  have  located  him,  mind, 
don't  dare  make  a  move  without  first  notifying  me. 


294      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL  BREEN 

I  will  determine  just  when  and  how  the  arrest  shall 
be  made." 

"  Yours  to  command,  sir,"  replied  Naylor,  sub 
missively.  "  It  shall  all  be  as  you  say.  But  it's  a 
pity- 

"  A  pity  ?  Don't  you  want  ten  thousand  dollars 
in  your  clothes?  " 

"  Sure.  But  I  did  want  to  give  that  Miss  Twigg 
a  twist.  If  I  could  have  waved  the  Professor's 
petticoat  in  her  face,  it  would  have  sickened  her  and 
him,  too." 

"  Well,  go  ahead  and  do  it,  if  you  can  without 
any  delay,"  said  Adolph  with  a  malicious  smile. 
"  It  is  good  generalship  to  break  up  that  Twigg 
combination.  Play  the  gig  to  win  either  way.  The 
scandal  is  all  you  need,  whether  true  or  not." 

"  That's  so,  Mr.  Breen,"  exclaimed  Naylor. 
"  What  would  you  do  ?  Write  them  an  anonymous 
letter?" 

"  You  do,  and  I'll  ruin  you.  Not  if  you  value 
your  life.  On  second  thought,  you  had  better  let 
this  matter  alone,  and  get  after  Paul  Breen  at  once. 
If  you  tackle  two  things  at  one  time,  you'll  spoil 
them  both.  I'll  attend  to  little  Miss  Millicent,  never 
fear.  An  anonymous  letter !  oh,  Lord !  That's  the 
acme  of  a  '  Private  Agency's  '  ingenuity ;  and  here 
we  have,  in  these  College  papers  you  brought,  the 
whole  story  in  open  print.  You  said,  didn't  you, 


THE   COUNTERPLOTTING         295 

that  the  latest  number  of  the  '  Horrid  Grind  '  has  a 
reference  to  the  closed-carriage  episode?  All  right, 
it  couldn't  be  better.  Come  —  get  out  now,  man, 
and  put  for  Carteret.  Since  my  poor  father's  death, 
I'm  head  over  ears  in  business." 

Notwithstanding  Adolph's  strictures,  Naylor 
knew  his  business  well  enough  to  appreciate  that 
success  in  it  depended  largely  upon  the  discriminate 
choice  and  use  of  probabilities.  He,  therefore,  first 
of  all,  tried  to  analyze  the  situation.  It  was  a  ques 
tion  whether  the  professor  had  chosen  city  or  coun 
try  for  Paul's  hiding-place.  "  If  this  man  had  been 
all  right  in  his  head,"  he  mused,  "  he  would  be  safer 
in  town  somewhere ;  but,  since  he  is  a  little  flighty  at 
times,  there  would  be  danger  of  his  attracting  the 
attention  of  the  police  through  some  outbreak.  Be 
sides,  after  all  he  has  been  through,  the  drag  of 
prison-life,  the  exposure  of  the  escape,  he  must  be 
in  poor  health ;  and  the  professor,  being  a  physician, 
would  notice  that,  and  prescribe  a  rest  in  the  coun 
try.  But  where  in  the  country?  Why,  in  some 
quiet  joint,  where  he  knew  and  could  trust  the 
people.  Somewheres,  then,  where  he  had  been 
himself.  The  thing  to  do,  consequently,  is  to  find 
out  where  Tancredi  has  been  in  the  habit  of  spending 
his  vacations.  If  I  could  question  him  myself,  I'd 
find  out  in  a  jiffy ;  but  I  don't  dare ;  he  would  surely 
remember  me.  I  shall  have  to  send  for  Staples." 


296     THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

Naylor  was  not  idle  while  waiting  for  his  plau 
sible  assistant.  He  bought  a  silver  mounted  pocket 
flask,  and  had  it  engraved  with  the  initials  "  J.  T." 
He  next  proceeded  to  batter  and  rub  the  silver  with 
ashes  until  it  lost  its  newness,  and  showed  signs  of 
wear;  putting  a  little  whiskey  in  the  bottle,  and 
striving  in  every  way  to  give  the  impression  of 
faithful  service. 

With  this  flask,  and  Naylor's  instructions,  Staples 
again  called  upon  Tancredi.  He  reminded  him  of 
his  former  conversation  with  him,  and  remarked 
that,  although  he  had  been  unable  to  find  the  mem 
orandum  he  had  mentioned,  he  believed  that  he  was 
the  very  man  to  whom  he  was  commissioned  to 
restore  a  bit  of  lost  property.  "  These  are  your 
initials,"  he  continued,  producing  the  flask ;  "  and 
my  friend  who  keeps  a  boarding-house  in  the  coun 
try  said  it  was  picked  up  last  fall  near  his  place,  and 
that  he  thought  it  must  belong  to  one  of  the  Carteret 
professors,  who  had  spent  a  few  weeks  near-by." 

"  No,"  said  Tancredi,  "  I  never  owned  a  flask 
anything  like  this.  Besides,"  he  added  with  a 
smile,  "  the  air  is  so  fresh  and  pure  up  at  Hill 
Farms,  one  hasn't  the  slightest  excuse  for  providing 
a  stimulant." 

"  My  friend  lives  at  Pleasant  View,"  Staples  per 
sisted.  "  Do  you  know  whether  any  of  the  profes 
sors  were  staying  near  there  ?  " 


THE   COUNTERPLOTTING         297 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  it,"  said  Tan- 
credi,  with  an  impatient  glance  toward  his  desk. 
"  You  might  inquire  of  the  Registrar,  who  may 
have  the  old  summer  addresses.  But,  as  I  don't 
know  of  any  one  with  these  initials  except  myself,  I 
fear  your  friend  must  decide  that  finding  is  keeping. 
At  all  events,  there  is  nothing  I  can  do  for  you ;  " 
and  again  he  closed  the  door  upon  his  visitor  and 
the  incident. 

While  Naylor  was  thus  hopefully  engaged, 
Adolph  Breen,  in  pursuance  of  his  part  in  the  con 
spiracy,  called  at  the  Twigg  house  and  succeeded  in 
seeing  Constance  alone.  His  passion  for  her  being 
wtiolly  selfish,  he  enjoyed  showing  his  power  over 
her,  though  he  realized  that  this  was  due  to  her 
solicitude  for  Paul.  Had  she  cared  for  him,  Adolph 
might  have  been  kind;  but,  as  she  remained  indif 
ferent  and  repellent,  he  found  pleasure  in  seeing  her 
subject  to  his  will,  even  when  that  will  could  affect  ^ 
her  only  by  causing  her  suffering.  Now,  the  sight 
of  her  pale  face  and  worried  expression  gave  him  a 
certain  malign  satisfaction,  though  he  veiled  it  by  a 
bearing  grave  and  dignified. 

"  I  come  again  to  warn  you,  Constance,"  he 
began.  "  It  is  a  distasteful  part  for  me  to  assume, 
but  faithful  are  the  wounds  of  a  friend,  remember. 
At  all  events,  I  care  too  much  for  you  to  permit  you 
to  continue  to  hazard  your  reputation  for  lack  of 


298     THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

what  is  really  common  knowledge.  This  fellow, 
Professor  James  Tancredi  as  he  calls  himself,  who 
comes  here  and  associates  with  you  freely,  has  a 
character  so  notoriously  vile  that  no  self-respecting 
woman  in  Carteret  will  recognize  him.  No,  you 
can't  put  me  off  with  that  incredulous  look.  I  don't 
ask  you  to  believe  my  statement,  I  don't  intend  to  go 
into  details;  but  here  are  a  few  copies  of  a  College 
paper,  issued  by  the  students  with  the  consent  of  the 
faculty.  You  must  know  that  they  would  not  dare 
to  print  a  false  libel  against  one  of  the  professors; 
but  here,  and  here,  and  here,  you  can  see  what  they 
assert  boldly,  week  after  week,  without  contra —  " 

Constance  brushed  the  copies  of  the  "  Horrid 
Grind  "  disdainfully  away.  "  I  don't  care  to  see 
them,"  she  replied.  "  I  am  not  interested.  Pro 
fessor  Tancredi  is  nothing  more  to  me  than  a  pleas 
ant  gentleman  who  once  rendered  me  a  service.  I 
am  sorry  if  he  is  not  all  he  appears  to  be ;  but  I  am 
too  engrossed  with  sadder,  more  vital  matters  to 
attempt  to  judge  him." 

"  Ah,  Constance,  what  a  pity  it  is  that  that  is 
true,"  Adolph  responded.  "  You  can't  touch  pitch, 
my  child,  without  being  defiled.  One  can  admire  a 
woman  who  is  faithful  to  a  worthy  lover.  So  long 
as  Paul  Breen  could  be  considered  a  martyr,  I  re 
spected  your  faith  in  him;  but  now  that  he  and  his 
convict-pal  —  an  habitual  criminal,  mind  you  —  are 


THE   COUNTERPLOTTING         299 

guilty  of  assault  and  robbery,  you  owe  it  to  yourself 
to  recall  your  womanhood  if  you  still  care  for  the 
world's  esteem." 

"  But  Paul  isn't  himself,  you  know  he  isn't," 
Constance  insisted  valiantly.  "  Since  the  death  of 
his  sister,  he  is  not  altogether  in  his  right  mind, 
and  —  " 

"  Since  the  murder  of  his  sister,  you  mean,  he  is 
a  dangerous  lunatic  with  homicidal  mania." 

"  I  can't  bear  it,  I  won't  hear  you,"  Constance 
cried,  her  face  averted,  her  hand  outstretched  as  if 
to  ward  off  some  evil  thing.  "  You  come  here,  with 
cunning  phrase,  to  make  white  black  and  innocent 
suffering  the  vilest  guilt;  but  I  know  Paul,  and  I 
trust  him;  I  do,  I  do!  "  And,  bursting  into  tears, 
she  swept  tumultuously  from  the  room. 

Scarcely  had  Adolph,  well-satisfied  with  his  work, 
disappeared  in  leisurely  stroll  down  the  street,  before 
Millicent  returned  home  and  entered  the  sitting- 
room  where  he  had  conversed  with  Constance.  She 
was  brimming  with  joy  unrestrained;  for  she  had 
met  Tancredi  during  her  walk,  and  he  had  asked 
permission  to  follow  as  soon  as  he  disposed  of  a 
business  engagement.  There  had  been  something 
in  the  earnestness  of  his  eye,  the  pallor  of  his  cheek, 
that  told  her  what  it  was  he  wished  to  say,  even  as 
the  catch  of  her  breath,  the  irregular  throbbings  of 
her  heart,  warned  her  what  her  answer  must  be, 


300      THE    CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

She  was  so  happy  in  this  intuitive  knowledge,  so 
blissfully  confident  that  the  world,  despite  the  shad 
ows  which  lately  had  darkened  her  friend's  life, 
would  be  all  sunshine  and  sparkle  for  her,  that  she 
danced  about  the  room  on  lightly  tripping  feet,  hum 
ming  a  gay  air. 

Then  she  caught  sight  of  the  copies  of  the  "  Hor 
rid  Grind,"  scattered  on  the  centre-table.  She 
stopped  short,  and  in  another  instant  was  absorbing 
the  blue-pencilled  passages,  one  after  another,  with 
the  instantaneous  gaze  of  a  jealous,  a  wronged 
woman. 

As  she  stood  thus,  with  indignation  flaming  from 
her  cheeks  and  flashing  from  her  eyes,  there  was  a 
quick,  nervous  step  in  the  hallway,  and  Tancredi 
entered  with  both  hands  extended. 

"  At  last,  Millicent,  at  last,"  he  began ;  and  then 
his  arms  fell,  his  form  stiffened,  as  he,  too,  saw  the 
"  Horrid  Grind." 

"  Did  some  one  send  you  those  disreputable  pa 
pers  ?  "  he  gasped. 

She  dropped  the  copy  she  held  to  the  floor,  and 
then  moved  away  as  from  filth.  "  Why  should 
any  one  send  them  to  me?"  she  retorted,  as  cold 
now  as  she  had  been  hot. 

"  But,  Millicent,  we  are  such  good  friends  —  you 
know  how  dear  you  are  to  me  —  with  what  hopes  I 
came  to-day,  but  a  moment  ago  —  " 


THE   COUNTERPLOTTING         301 

"  Well,  then,  —  well,  then  ? "  the  girl  cried 
eagerly,  as  she  bent  forward,  her  face  softening. 

"  You  mean  that  I  must  deny  —  explain  ?  Dear, 
I  do  deny,  solemnly,  on  my  soul.  But  I  can't  explain 
—  the  secret,  for  there  is  a  secret,  though  thus  vilely 
perverted,  is  not  mine.  It  would  be  unjust  to  one 
dependent  upon  me  — 

"  Say  no  more,"  commanded  Millicent,  pacing  the 
floor,  infuriated.  "  I  want  to  know  nothing  of  a 
secret  that  imposes  public  shame.  I  want  to  hear 
nothing  from  a  man  so  impudent,  so  false,  as  to 
prate  to  a  woman  of  his  love  in  one  breath  and  of 
his  superior  obligations  to  a  dependent  in  another. 
You  are  too  subtle  for  me  in  your  distinctions, 'Pro 
fessor  Tancredi.  Hereafter  I  would  suggest  that 
your  College,  with  its  peculiar  facilities,  offers  the 
proper  field  for  the  exercise  of  your  logic.  At  all 
events,  I  will  have  none  of  it."  And  she  strode 
majestically  up  the  stairs  that  Constance's  faltering 
feet  had  ascended.  And  Tancredi  walked  heavily 
down  the  street,  over  which  Adolph  had  leisurely 
strolled,  sad  of  heart,  but  strong  in  his  loyalty  to 
the  unknown  whom  he  called  "  Cousin  Peter." 


CHAPTER    XXI 

THE    SHADOWINGS 

JOE  and  Jake,  the  State  detectives,  like  the  Sia 
mese  twins,  could  not  get  along  well  without  each 
other.  They  were  the  positive  and  negative  poles, 
which,  when  combined,  formed  the  magnet  that 
might  draw  the  malefactor  from  his  hiding.  It 
takes  an  unusually  strong  mind  to  argue  by  itself 
the  pros  and  cons  of  any  matter,  it  being  human 
nature  to  jump  at  an  opinion  rather  than  to  arrive 
at  one  by  the  tedious  stages  of  reasoning.  Joe  and 
Jake,  through  their  diverse  views,  were  mutually  a 
mental  alterative;  and  the  conclusion  reached  was 
often  a  far  more  logical  one  than  either  was  capable 
of  deducing. 

When  the  two  detectives  had  returned  "  Soci'ty 
Dan "  to  the  prison,  receiving  his  last  satirical 
thanks  for  "  the  'ahnor  of  their  escoort,"  they 
hastened  to  report  their  slight  success  and  great 
failure  to  the  Governor  at  the  Capital. 

"  Don't  waste  another  moment  in  idle  excuses," 
roared  John  Strain,  "  but  get  back  just  as  quickly 

302 


THE   SHADOWINGS  303 

as  you  can  on  Breen's  trail,  and  stay  there  until  you 
have  found  him,  dead  or  alive.  Then,  without 
making  an  arrest,  communicate  with  me,  and  I'll 
advise  you  what  to  do  and  when  to  do  it.  By  the 
Lord  Harry,  I'll  be  better  satisfied  to  make  the 
choice  of  Adolph's  psychological  moment  myself. 
And  that  reminds  me,  too,  to  say  that  you  needn't 
report  your  doings  to  my  partner,  Mr.  Breen.  He 
has,  I  understand,  started  an  independent  inves 
tigation  through  that  man  Naylor  who  used  to  hang 
around  the  District  Attorney's  office.  That  is  all 
right  in  its  way ;  but  it  would  please  me  to  have  you 
get  ahead  of  him.  So  do  your  utmost,  and  do  it 
quickly,  stimulated  by  the  hope  of  reward  and  the 
fear  of  discharge;  for  one  or  the  other  will  be 
coming  to  you,  I  tell  you  plainly." 

"Breen's  trail?"  repeated  Joe,  when,  somewhat 
depressed  by  the  impending  crisis  of  their  joint 
career,  they  tried  to  agree  upon  a  campaign ;  "  how 
can  we  get  back  to  what  we  were  never  on  ?  " 

"We  must  have  been  near  it,  though,"  .reflected 
Jake,  "  or  Soci'ty  would  never  have  given  us  that 
run  through  the  woods.  Besides,  didn't  he  say  when 
we  pinched  him  that  every  step  had  been  further  and 
further  away  from  Paul?  " 

"  Right  you  are ;  and,  when  he  picked  us  up,  we 
had  just  come  across  that  one-horse  rig  in  the 
woods." 


304     THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

"  Then  the  first  thing  for  us  to  do  is  to  find  out 
whose  rig  it  was  and  what  it  was  doing  there." 

The  first  part  of  this  programme  did  not  prove 
difficult.  The  one  livery-stable  proprietor  in  Nadonk 
recollected  at  once  the  letting  of  such  a  conveyance 
on  the  day  in  question. 

"  Two  young  ladies  hired  it  early  in  the  morning," 
he  said,  "  and,  when  they  returned  it  at  noon,  they 
had  an  old  blind  man  with  them." 

"  Do  you  think  the  young  ladies  were  sisters  ?  " 
asked  Joe. 

"  Not  unless  sisters  go  by  contraries.  The  one  of 
them  was  light  and  pale,  and  the  other  dark,  with 
red  cheeks." 

"Which  of  them  did  the  talking?"  Jake  then 
asked. 

"  The  dark  one  —  she  seemed  less  rattled." 

"  Do  you  know  from  where  they  came,  or  where 
they  went?"  Joe  continued. 

"  I  know  they  asked  what  was  the  next  train  for 
Hamlin." 

"A  blind  man  from  Hamlin,  hey,  Joe?"  cried 
Jake. 

"  Just  wait  till  I  clinch  it,  Jake,"  cautioned  Joe. 
"  Now,  then,  my  friend,  one  other  question :  Was 
this  a  tall,  old  blind  man,  with  dark  blue  glasses  set 
on  the  front  and  side,  and  a  white  beard  flowing 
down  to  his  waist?  " 


THE   SHADOWINGS  305 

"  The  identical  same,"  answered  the  livery  man. 

"  Phineas  Twigg,  for  a  thousand,"  exclaimed 
Jake. 

"  And  his  daughter  and  her  friend,"  agreed  Joe. 

"  I  think  you  are  right,  gentlemen,"  the  pro 
prietor  volunteered,  anxious  to  oblige  officers  who 
had  shown  such  high  credentials;  "for  I'm  'most 
sure  I  heard  the  pale  one  say  '  Mr.  Twigg.'  But, 
to  my  mind,  whatever  the  party  had  been  after,  they 
didn't  get,  for  they  all  went  away  blue  enough." 

This  warning,  however,  had  no  effect  upon  Joe 
and  Jake.  No  wonder  they  were  blue  if  they  had 
just  parted  with  Paul,  knowing  that  he  had  barely 
escaped  capture  through  Soci'ty's  stratagem,  and 
that  he  might  be  caught  at  any  moment. 

"  No  doubt  they  had  given  him  money  and 
clothes  that  might  be  traced  to  them,"  Joe  reasoned. 

"  Yes,  and  don't  you  remember  Soci'ty's  saying 
that  a  black-eyed  darling  had  told  him  to  lead  us  by 
the  nose?  "  Jake  added. 

"  That  must  have  been  Twigg's  daughter,  I'm 
thinking." 

"  Sure ;  she  has  taken  the  leading  part  right 
along." 

The  detectives,  then,  while  they  kept  close  watch 
for  the  ensuing  weeks  on  the  Twigg  household,  paid 
especial  attention  to  Millicent.  Many  little  circum 
stances  strengthened  their  first  impression.  The 


306     THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

girl  was  active  and  out  a  good  deal,  while  Constance, 
in  her  anxiety  and  sorrow,  kept  within  doors. 
Phineas,  too,  showed  no  variance  in  his  going  and 
coming,  to  the  court-room  and  back,  from  the 
routine  of  years. 

The  little  family  was  quiet  and  well-ordered,  with 
few  friends,  and  with  regular  habits.  Adolph  Breen 
called  occasionally,  and  so  did  a  tall,  slight  stranger, 
who,  as  discreet  inquiry  soon  told  them,  was  a 
professor  from  a  college  in  an  adjacent  State,  who 
sometimes  had  business  in  town,  and  then  naturally 
indulged  in  a  passing  call.  They  saw  no  reason  to 
suspect  him  of  complicity,  nor  did  they  suspect  him 
until  Millicent  herself,  through  that  impetuosity 
which  was  at  once  the  strength  and  weakness  of  her 
character,  unwittingly  caused  them  to  do  so. 

After  her  peremptory  dismissal  of  Tancredi,  Mil 
licent  was  very  unhappy.  She  took  long  walks  until 
the  detectives  were  inclined  to  think  that  she  was 
aware  of  their  espionage  and  was  tormenting  them ; 
but  this  was  only  an  evidence  of  her  mental  distress. 
She  was  so  proud  of  herself,  and  her  own  innate 
freedom  from  the  dross  and  muck  of  the  world; 
she  had  been  so  proud  of  Tancredi,  and  so  strong  in 
the  faith  that  he,  too,  was  a  creature  of  light,  un- 
blighted  and  unblightable !  The  very  thought  that 
vulgar  intrigue  had  dared  touch  him  —  had  dared 
cast  its  shadow  across  her  path  —  was  intolerable ; 


THE   SHADOWINGS  307 

and,  tHough  her  heart  kept  whispering  that  she  ought 
to  trust  the  one  she  loved,  her  indignation  retorted 
that  the  one  she  loved  could  have  no  need  for  being 
trusted. 

Phineas  Twigg  increased  this  inner  conflict  by 
well-meant  intervention. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  learn,  my  dear,"  he  said,  one  day, 
"  of  your  estrangement  from  my  friend,  Tancredi." 

"Has  he  been  complaining  to  you?"  the  girl 
retorted,  her  pride  all  up  in  arms.  "  How  manly !  " 

"  No;  he  has  been  justifying  himself." 

"  In  what  way ;  by  explanation  ?  " 

"  By  simple  denial." 

"  That  is  not  enough  for  me,"  Millicent  protested. 
"  My  husband  must  be  above  suspicion." 

"  It  should  be  enough  for  you,  my  child,"  replied 
Phineas ;  "  when  your  father,  through  that  divina 
tion  of  truth  and  falsity  which  you  know  is  his 
recompense  for  affliction,  assures  you  that  this  young 
man  asserts  the  truth." 

"  Then  I  must  bow  before  him  and  admit  that  I 
was  in  the  wrong;  then  I  must  endure  the  shrugs 
and  pity  of  the  knowing?  Oh,  father,  I  do  believe 
in  you,  I  do,  I  do ;  but  I  cannot,  I  cannot,  believe  in 
him  when  I  know  he  is  hiding  something  from  me. 
What  right  had  he  to  put  himself  in  such  a  position 
that  he  could  not  abide  by  the  truth  without  fear  or 
favor ;  what  right  had  he,  having  once  assumed  this 


308      THE    CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

position,  to  dare  bring  under  the  cloud  of  its  mys 
teries  a  young  girl,  whom,  if  he  loved,  it  was  his 
first  duty  to  shield?  I  cannot  believe  in  him  under 
such  circumstances;  for  trust  between  a  man  and 
woman,  to  be  complete  and  enduring,  must  be 
reciprocal.  Oh,  I  am  so  wretched  —  "  and  Millicent, 
appreciating  that  her  reasons  became  weaker  as  her 
emotions  grew  stronger,  hurried  away  to  that  soli 
tude  which  alone  has  sympathy  for  one  so  racked  in 
heart  and  mind. 

All  that  night  she  read,  re-read  and  pondered  over 
the  miserable  screeds  in  the  "  Horrid  Grind," 
arranging  and  analyzing  their  accusations.  One 
salient  fact,  capable  of  proof,  stood  out  preeminent 
from  the  mass  of  innuendo.  It  was  stated  that 
Bullion,  the  college  policeman,  had  seen  Professor 
Tancredi  escorting  his  mysterious  visitor  from  his 
room  at  midnight.  Very  well,  then;  she  would  go 
to  the  one  reputable  eye-witness,  and  be  relieved  at 
least  from  the  uncertainty  that  was  consuming 
her. 

It  was  Friday,  the  seventh  of  July,  and  Jake,  on 
meeting  his  partner,  Joe,  that  morning,  had  re 
marked  hopefully  that  there  were  sevens  enough  in 
the  date  to  more  than  make  up  for  "  the  hoodoo  of 
the  day."  The  detectives  were  too  practical  of  mind 
to  reflect  that  what  would  be  good  luck  for  them 
might  be  bad  luck  for  the  rest  of  humanity,  or  to  be 


THE   SHADOWINGS  309 

abashed  by  the  slight  discrimination  if  they  had 
reflected ;  so,  they  greeted  it  as  a  corroborative  omen 
when  Millicent,  heavily  veiled  and  dressed  in  black, 
stole  from  the  side-door  of  her  home,  and  hurried 
through  by-ways  to  the  railway  station. 

"  She's  going  to  Carteret,  Joe,"  said  Jake,  after 
he  had  stood  just  behind  the  young  girl  in  the  line 
in  front  of  the  ticket-office. 

"  Well,  that  isn't  much  of  a  trip,"  replied  Joe, 
satisfiedly ;  "  not  more'n  a  half-hour  over  the  State 
line." 

"  If  so  be  she's  going  to  meet  Paul  Breen,"  Jake 
continued,  "  there'll  have  to  be  extradition  papers 
issued." 

"  The  Gov.  will  attend  to  that,  all  right,"  added 
Joe ;  "  once  we  have  located  of  him  and  reported 
on  him,  we've  done  our  biz." 

When  the  train  reached  Carteret,  Millicent  took 
a  street-car  for  the  college  buildings.  She  noticed 
that  two  men  whom  she  had  seen  in  the  Hamlin 
station  were  still  her  fellow-passengers;  but  she  did 
not  attribute  their  presence  to  any  interest  in  herself. 
They  alighted  when  she  did;  but  remained  gazing 
wonderingly  about  from  the  sidewalk,  after  the 
immemorial  custom  of  tourists,  while  she  passed 
through  the  college-gate. 

The  campus  bore  the  neglected,  deserted  air  of 
vacation,  though  many  of  the  faculty  and  some  of 


310     THE   CASE  OF   PAUL   BREEN 

the  special  students  still  lingered  in  the  cool  and 
cozy  dormitories.  The  only  sign  of  life  on  the 
broad  expanse  of  green  —  and  that  a  sign  of  still 
life  —  was  a  rotund  form  in  a  suit  of  blue,  bedecked 
by  gilt  buttons,  reclining  in  the  shade  of  a  great 
elm,  too  comfortably  inert,  one  might  judge,  to  ever 
catch  anything  —  not  even  flies.  And  thither  Mil- 
licent  directed  her  steps. 

"  By  gum,  Jake,"  cried  Joe,  peering  through  the 
pickets,  "  if  she  ain't  going  to  buzz  old  Bullion,  the 
policeman,  blow  me." 

"  That's  a  queer  start,  and  no  mistake,"  replied 
Joe.  "  But  at  least  we  will  get  on  to  her  curves, 
all  right;  there's  nawthin'  he  won't  tell  us." 

Bullion  was  by  nature  a  fatherly  man.  The  sight 
of  a  young  woman,  so  heavily  veiled  in  midsummer, 
evidently  come  upon  some  definite  purpose,  yet  even 
more  evidently  uncertain  how  to  carry  it  out,  roused 
his  dormant  sense  of  protection.  "  Is  there  anything 
I  can  do  for  you,  Miss  ?  "  he  asked,  with  an  inchoate 
salute. 

"  Do  you  know  whether  Professor  Tancredi  is  at 
the  college,  to-day?  "  Millicent  began,  for  lack  of  a 
better  introduction. 

"  He  went  down  street,  Mum,  about  an  hour 
since,  and  I'm  sure  he  hain't  come  back.  But  you 
wasn't  a-thinkin'  of  going  to  his  collidge  room,  I 
ventur'  to  hope  ?  " 


THE   SHADOWINGS  311 

"  I  suppose  no  young  woman  would  ever  do  a 
thing  like  that?  "  Millicent  suggested. 

"  Well,  I  ain't  a-goin'  to  say  as  far  as  that," 
replied  the  cautious  Bullion ;  "  but  cert'nly  no  young 
leddy,  such  as  you,  would  do  the  like." 

"  Then  you  have  known  of  cases ;  then  there  is 
some  truth  in  these  horrible  reports?" 

"  Some  truth  in  'em  ?  Gordemitey,  my  child,  a 
young,  innocent  mind  such  as  your'n  can't  pictur'  the 
goin's-on  I've  seen  under  kiver  of  night,  and  him 
so  proper  in  appearance,  too;  as  if  about  to  put  up  a 
prayer.  But  there,  there,  this  is  no  mess  for  you  to 
bother  your  pretty  head  about.  You  go  home  and 
be  thankful  that  he's  been  found  out  in  time;  yes, 
and  go  home  and  be  thankful  that  there  is  a  good 
friend  of  your  family,  and  a  sorter  connection,  too, 
who  is  lookin'  arter  your  int'rests,  and  is  up  to  all 
kinds  of  snuff  while  a-doin'  it." 

"  What  do  you  mean?  "  gasped  Millicent. 

"  Oh,  I  know  a  thing  or  two,"  continued  the 
gratified  Bullion.  "  If  I  should  call  you  Miss  Katie, 
now,  I  wouldn't  miss  my  guess,  would  I?  And 
supposin'  I  added  a  Brown  to  it,  how  clus'  would 
I  be  comin'  to  the  truth,  hey  ?  " 

"  But  do  you  say  that  some  one  in  my  interest," 
Millicent  whispered,  "  has  found  out  all  about  this 
—  this  dreadful  creature  in  his  room,  and  the  mid 
night  drive,  and  all  ?  " 


312     THE   CASE  OF  PAUL   BREEN 

"  Everything,  Mum,  as  well  as  I  could  tell  it 
myself  —  and  better,  mebbe,  for  I  seen  him  gitting 
busy  about  town  this  very  day." 

"  And  there's  a  Miss  Katie  Brown  in  it, 
too?" 

'  You  know  there  is,  my  child ;  so  be  good  and 
go  home,  and  never,  never,  think  of  the  professor 
again." 

Millicent  was  dumfounded  by  these  revelations. 
Not  only  had  her  worst  forebodings  been  more  than 
verified,  but  some  one,  out  of  pity  for  her,  was 
seeking  to  learn  all  the  facts.  Shrinking  within 
herself,  as  if  from  a  shame  which  her  own 
mad  actions  had  brought  close  upon  her,  she  suf 
fered  the  policeman  to  lead  her  to  the  college- 
gate.  "  Now  you  go  right  home,  like  a  good  girl, 
won't  you  ?  "  he  warned,  as  he  again  saluted  abor 
tively. 

"  I  will,  oh,  I  will,"  replied  Millicent,  as  heart 
broken,  and  oblivious  to  her  surroundings,  she 
passed  down  the  street. 

"  Now,  Bullion,  old  man,"  cried  Joe,  springing 
out  from  behind  the  gate-post,  "  just  tell  us  what 
this  is  all  about." 

"  Yes,  and  give  it  to  us  straight,"  added  Jake, 
coming  up  on  the  other  side,  "  if  you  ever  expect  any 
favors  over  in  our  bailiwick." 

After   Bullion  had   faithfully   fulfilled  his   obli- 


THE   SHADOWINGS  313 

gations  to  his  fellow-craftsmen  from  the  adjoining 
State,  Joe  and  Jake  took  the  street-car  for  the  station 
in  dejected  mood. 

"  Well,  good-by  to  the  ten  t'ousand,"  sighed 
Jake ;  "  we've  wasted  all  our  chances  in  running 
down  a  mare's-nest." 

"  Yes,  and  with  nothin'  in  it,  either,"  groaned 
Joe. 

"  Speakin'  of  the  devil  —  "  cried  Jake  suddenly, 
as  the  car  dashed  by  a  dingy  man  on  the  corner,  who 
had  just  come  out  of  a  book-store,  with  an  agent's 
portfolio  under  his  arm,  and  a  small  boy  with  a 
package  and  a  valise  hurrying  after. 

"  An'  he  wags  his  tail,"  finished  Joe.  "  There's 
Naylor  hisself,  bound  for  the  station  the  same  as  we 
be.  Now,  you  don't  suppose  he's  really  working, 
do  you?  " 

"Work,  nothing!  If  he  wasn't  on  a  job,  he 
would  be  setting  in  a  saloon,  waiting  for  another, 
the  same  as  we'd  be.  Oh,  no ;  he's  still  after  Paul 
Breen,  all  right ;  and  it  looks  as  if  he  was  begin 
ning  to  know  how  to  find  him." 

"  On  the  book-agent's  lay,  you  think?  "  Joe  sug 
gested.  "  Knowing  of  the  community  but  not  the 
spot,  and  going  from  house  to  house  to  find  out, 
hey?" 

"  Sure." 

"  Then  we're  in  luck,  after  all.     All  we've  got  to 


314     THE   CASE   OF   PAUL  BREEN 

do  is  to  follow  him  until  we  learn  what  he's  up 
against,  and  then  go  him  two  better  —  " 

"  But,  if  he  catches  a  sight  of  us  in  the  station, 
the  jig  is  up." 

"  That's  true,  of  course,"  agreed  Joe.  "  But  if 
we  pass  right  through  to  the  yard,  and  stand  in  one 
of  the  deep  window-recesses  at  the  further  end,  we 
can  see  him  when  he  takes  a  train,  and  jump  aboard 
the  next  car." 

Meanwhile  Millicent  had  reached  the  station, 
and,  finding  that  she  could  not  leave  for  Hamlin  for 
an  hour,  had  seated  herself  in  the  cooling  draft  just 
beyond  one  of  the  deep  open  windows  of  the  ladies' 
waiting-room.  She  was  fatigued  of  body  and  mind, 
inert  through  the  reaction  from  suspense,  morti 
fication  and  grief;  but  suddenly  her  energies  were 
roused  by  the  sound  of  her  own  name. 

"  Then,  our  chase  after  that  little  Miss  Twigg 
wasn't  a  wild-goose  one  after  all,"  said  a  voice  from 
without,  accompanied  by  a  whiff  of  tobacco-smoke. 

"  No,  indeedy,"  replied  another  voice.  "  Naylor 
has  got  too  much  beef  on  his  bones  to  be  a  book- 
agent  in  dead  earnest.  Why,  that's  next  door  to 
Potter's  Field.  No,  no;  he's  after  Paul  Breen,  and 
on  the  right  lay,  too,  I'll  warrant,  just  as  surely  as 
we'll  be  after  him." 

"  You  think  he  will  come  here  —  " 

"  There  is  no  other  station  on  this  line  of  cars 


THE   SHADOWINGS  315 

—  see,  there  he  is  now,  making  for  that  train  that's 
just  about  to  draw  out  to  the  north'ard.  Step  lively, 
Joe,  or  we'll  miss  our  everlasting  fortune." 

Millicent  sprang  to  her  feet  and  gazed  out  of  the 
window.  She  saw  the  dingy  man,  who  had  tried 
to  steal  Constance's  satchel,  and  who  had  looked  so 
venomously  at  herself  when  she  had  tossed  away  his 
grimy  card,  boarding  a  train,  by  the  side  of  which 
the  conductor  was  impatiently  waving.  Yes,  that 
was  the  wretch's  name  —  Naylor  —  a  private  detect 
ive  agency  —  beyond  a  doubt !  She  saw  the  two 
men,  whom  she  had  seen,  first  in  the  Hamlin  station, 
then  on  the  train  to  Carteret,  and  then  on  the  car  to 
the  college,  glide  around  the  rear  of  the  train,  and 
enter  the  car,  next  to  Naylor's,  from  the  further 
side.  They  had  followed  her  —  they  had  learned 
something  about  Paul  Breen's  hiding-place  —  this 
wretch  was  in  search  of  him,  and  so,  now,  were 
they !  What  should  she  do  ?  Oh,  God,  what  could 
she  do?  The  only  answer  was  the  derisive  shriek 
of  the  engine,  as  the  train  bearing  the  three  men 
rolled  from  the  yard! 


CHAPTER    XXII 

THE   USELESS    WARNING 

TANCREDI  was  glad  to  devote  his  leisure  to  a 
study  of  the  silver-bound  note-book.  The  occupa 
tion  proved  engrossing;  and  thus  at  once  kept  him 
from  brooding  over  his  trouble  with  Millicent,  while 
it  consoled  him  with  the  assurance  that,  whether  she 
wished  it  or  not,  he  still  was  serving  her. 

To  his  amazement,  he  found  that,  though  there 
were  a  few  entries  in  the  book  that  were  intelligible, 
so  far  as  they  went,  the  majority  of  them  were 
expressed  in  a  cipher  —  a  device  which  Paul,  in  his 
anxiety  for  secrecy,  had  seen  fit  to  employ." 

With  all  Tancredi's  trained  powers  of  analysis 
and  concentration,  it  was  long  before  he  discovered 
the  key,  and,  when  he  did  so,  the  matter  translated 
seemed  even  more  remarkable  to  him. 

"  I  wonder  if  this  learned  young  lady,"  he  mused, 
as  he  worked  out  chemical  symbols,  notes  of  reac 
tion,  degrees  of  temperature  and  rough  plans  of 
apparatus,  "  knew  what  she  was  about.  It  would 
seem  as  if  she  were  preparing  scientific  lectures  — 
and  yet  —  " 

316 


THE   USELESS   WARNING          317 

Had  Tancredi  known  that  the  note-book  had 
belonged  to  Paul  Breen  he  would  have  been  less 
surprised  by  the  nature  of  its  contents;  but  both 
Constance  and  Millicent  had  given  him  the  impres 
sion  that  its  owner  was  a  young  girl. 

As  he  went  on,  he  came  to  a  page  headed  "  Tan- 
credi's  Formula,"  and  containing  notes  of  an  experi 
ment  in  vibrations  invented  by  himself.  These  notes 
pointed  out  an  error  in  his  calculations  and  corrected 
it.  Tancredi  went  to  his  shelves,  opened  his  own 
work  on  the  subject,  and  compared  the  passages. 
Then  he  drew  up  to  his  table  and  worked  out  the 
problem  again  and  again  —  but  always  with  the 
same  result  —  the  formula,  as  printed  in  his  treatise, 
was  wrong;  the  formula,  as  corrected  in  the  note 
book,  was  right.  He  flung  down  his  pen,  and 
exclaimed :  "  That  is  not  the  work  of  any  school 
girl  or  college-student  —  or  least  of  all  of  a  hobo  or 
'  Ed  Flyaway.'  Whoever  made  these  notes  was  a 
master  of  the  subject.  I  did  not  think  there  was  a 
person  in  America  capable  of  rinding  a  weak  spot 
in  those  calculations  of  mine.  The  whole  thing  is 
incomprehensible  —  if  there  is  any  continuity  to 
these  entries  they  lead  to  a  daring  attempt  to  solve 
what  hitherto  has  been  thought,  if  not  unsolvable,  at 
least  unsolved.  Well,  I  will  go  on  to  the  end  —  but 
it  is  most  mystifying." 

And  Tancredi  did  go  on  to  the  end  until  he  had 


318      THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

made  clear  the  constituent  parts  of  that  discovery 
which  Paul  Breen  had  been  so  feverishly  anxious  to 
submit  to  him  two  years  before.  But,  not  knowing 
the  sequence  or  the  design,  he  was  dissatisfied  and 
perplexed  by  what  he  had  accomplished.  "  Who 
ever  it  was  and  whatever  he  was  about,  I  hope  for 
his  sake  he  was  careful  in  handling  these  powerful 
agencies,"  he  reflected.  "  A  slip  would  mean  a 
smash,  and  a  dangerous  one,  too.  There  is  only 
one  thing  for  me  to  do  if  I  am  to  be  of  any  help. 
I  must  see  Miss  Sanderson,  and  learn  all  she  knows 
about  the  maker  of  these  notes  —  otherwise  I  am 
but  a  blind  pilot  on  a  sea  of  night." 

It  was  the  morning  of  Friday,  the  7th  of  July 
when  the  Professor  started  from  his  college  rooms 
to  carry  out  this  resolution.  And  about  the  same 
hour,  it  happened,  Adolph  Breen  was  strolling  to 
ward  the  Twigg  house,  musing  on  what  he  was 
about  to  say  to  Constance  Sanderson. 

Man  and  woman,  good  and  bad,  —  such  are  the 
four  prime  elements  of  all  tragedy,  and  they  are 
capable  of  almost  infinite  adjustment.  The  good 
man  under  the  influence  of  the  bad  woman  —  and 
there  is  the  strife  of  the  flesh  and  the  soul.  The 
bad  man  swayed  by  the  bad  woman  —  there  is  the 
depth  of  degradation.  The  good  man  attracted  and 
subjected  by  the  good  woman  —  here  is  all  chivalry 
and  romance.  But  of  all  combinations,  that  of  the 


THE  USELESS  WARNING         319 

bad  man  and  the  good  woman  is  the  least  capable 
of  analysis  with  certainty.  She  appeals  to  both 
sides  of  his  nature  —  the  angelic  and  the  diabolic; 
and  the  result  in  each  case  depends  upon  the  pro 
portions  of  these. 

Adolph's  attraction  to  Constance  had  sprung  orig 
inally  from  his  best  qualities.  But,  as  he  had  allowed 
his  worse  propensities  and  lower  attributes  to  gain 
ascendency  over  him,  his  feeling  toward  her  had 
changed.  Aware  that  he  could  never  win  her  respect 
or  affection,  he  was  the  more  resolved  that  he  would 
conquer  her  and  take  what  he  could  not  deserve. 
His  passion  had  now  reached  the  stage  where  he 
would  have  murdered  her  rather  than  see  her  ignore 
him.  Allied  to  it,  too,  in  forcing  him  against  his 
better  judgment  to  call  upon  her  at  this  time,  was  a 
harrowing  suspense.  He  had  not  heard  as  yet  from 
Naylor.  He  still  believed  that  Constance  had  been 
privy  to  Paul's  escape.  He  still  feared  that  his  own 
ruin  was  imminent,  if  his  cousin  was  not  recaptured. 
Might  he  not  then  by  frightening  the  girl  extort 
some  information  from  her  ?  At  least  he  would  try. 

Constance,  on  receiving  Adolph's  card,  with  the 
words,  "  I  have  news  of  Paul,  and  I  must  see  you 
at  once,"  scribbled  upon  it,  came  down  to  him  at 
once.  She  gave  him  no  greeting,  however,  but  re 
mained  standing  and  even  refrained  from  speaking. 

"  I   know   everything  that  has   been   going   on, 


320      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

Constance,"  he  began ;  "  your  trip  to  the  prison,  your 
stay  at  Nadonk,  your  drive  through  the  woods,  your 
complicity  in  Paul's  escape,  everything,  I  say. 
More  than  this,  I  know  where  he  is  hid;  I  can  put 
my  finger  on  him  at  any  time.  Let  me  but  give  the 
signal,  and  he  will  be  arrested.  Why  do  I  hesitate  ? 
Because  I  am  willing  to  give  you  a  last  chance  — 
because  I  love  —  " 

"  This  is  childish,"  Constance  broke  in,  quietly. 
"  I  am  willing  to  listen  to  you,  if  it  is  for  Paul's 
sake.  But,  if  you  come  merely  to  insult  me,  I  will 
not  stay." 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  Adolph  answered,  keeping  him 
self  under  strong  restraint.  "  Let  us  then  make  this 
a  business  interview,  since  you  will  have  it  so.  I 
bear  that  poor  devil  of  a  Paul  no  ill-will,  but  he  shall 
not  ruin  your  life,  nor  mine.  If  you  will  send  him 
word  by  me  to  take  himself  off  to  some  remote 
corner  of  the  earth  forever  —  then  I  will  let  him 
go,  I  will  even  supply  him  generously  with  money, 
but  on  condition,  mind  you,  that  you  give  yourself 
into  my  keeping  — 

"  Stop,"  cried  Constance,  in  ringing  tones,  "  you 
villain  for  saying  so  much,  you  coward  for  not 
saying  more.  Oh,  I  understand  your  vile  words, 
and  your  viler  nature;  I  am  no  child  to  be  tricked 
by  rhetorical  phrases  or  dramatic  posings.  If  this  is 
a  business  interview,  once  for  all  I  refuse  to  deal 


THE   USELESS   WARNING          321 

with  you.  I  despise  you;  I  defy  you.  Whatever 
you  do,  remember  that  neither  Paul  nor  myself 
asks  or  expects  anything  from  your  hands.  Go,  do 
your  worst,  as  you  already  have  done,  I  believe,  in 
this  persecution  of  an  innocent  man.  I  will  not 
listen  to  another  word.  Leave  the  house  at  once." 

"  Defiance  gives  a  very  broad  discretion,  my 
dear,"  said  Adolph  with  a  wicked  smile  —  and  he 
began  to  draw  near.  But  he  stopped  short,  as  a 
heavy  hand  was  laid  on  his  shoulder,  as  a  stern 
voice  warned :  "  I  understood  Miss  Sanderson  to 
order  you  from  the  premises  —  " 

Adolph  turned  and  grappled  with  the  stranger. 
It  was  Tancredi,  whom  the  servant  had  directed 
familiarly  to  the  room.  For  a  moment  the  two  men 
struggled  and  strained,  hand  in  hand,  face  to  face ; 
then,  as  they  sprang  apart  as  if  to  spring  together 
again,  something  bright  was  flung  from  Tancredi's 
finger,  and  lay  glittering  in  the  full  sunshine  that 
shot  athwart  the  floor. 

"Paul's  ring;  oh,  my  God,  Paul's  ring!"  cried 
Constance,  as  she  picked  up  the  jewel  and  clasped 
it  to  her  bosom. 

"  Paul's  ring,  surely  enough,"  repeated  Adolph, 
exultingly.  "  Then  this  must  be  that  precious  pro 
fessor  of  yours.  Very  well,  professor,  I  am  content 
to  leave  you  to  the  law  that  makes  short  work  of 
those  who  shelter  escaped  convicts ;  "  and  he  took 


322      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

himself  off  with  all  the  dignity  his  conflicting  pas 
sions  would  allow. 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,  Miss  Sanderson,"  said  Tan- 
credi  serenely.  "  That  is  an  empty  threat.  He  is 
too  good  a  lawyer  not  to  know  that  the  mere  posses 
sion  is  not  sufficient  to  charge  me  —  " 

"  I  hope  so,  I  pray  so,"  Constance  interrupted 
breathlessly;  "but  where  did  you  get  it,  this 
ring,  this  ring?  It  is  Paul's,  it  is  Paul's,  I  tell 
you!" 

"  Sit  down,"  said  Tancredi,  smiling  shamefacedly, 
"  and  I  will  explain.  I  have  been  stupid  beyond 
belief.  For  several  weeks  I  have  been  taking  care 
of  Paul  Breen,  and  yet  it  has  not  once  occurred  to 
me  who  my  patient  was.  I  can't  excuse  my  blindness 
except  by  pleading  that  I  have  been  so  deeply  in  love 
with  your  friend,  Millicent.  Ever  since  I  saw  her, 
I  have  thought  of  little  else,  and  all  the  rest  of  the 
world  has  been  in  a  mist  to  me.  Paul  Breen  met  me 
in  the  street,  one  day,  sick,  out  of  his  head,  friend 
less  —  I  took  him  to  my  rooms  —  " 

"  God  bless  you !  "  cried  Constance,  seizing  his 
hand. 

"  Then  I  sent  him  away  to  a  quiet  spot  in  the 
mountains  —  Tip-top  Cottage,  not  a  great  ways 
from  the  village  of  Hill  Farms.  I  knew  nothing  of 
him,  but,  since  I  learned  early  that  he  was  a  fugitive 
from  justice,  I  would  not  let  him  tell  his  name  nor 


THE  USELESS   WARNING         323 

anything  that  would  interfere  with  my  right  to  care 
for  him  merely  as  one  in  distress." 

"  Oh,  so  good,  so  noble,  so  true !  "  sobbed  Con 
stance.  "  And  did  you  not  know  that  he  was  con 
victed  of  a  murder  —  the  murder  of  his  sister  ?  " 

"  No ;  but  his  wandering  soliloquies  in  his  fever 
convinced  me  that  he  was  innocent  of  any  crime." 

"  And  it  was  for  harboring  Paul  that  these  slan 
ders  were  spoken  of  you?  " 

"  Yes ;   there  was  no  other  foundation  for  them." 

"  Only  wait,  then,  until  Millicent  returns  —  " 

"  But  I  can't  wait,"  replied  Tancredi,  "  I  must 

leave  my  fate  in  your  good  hands.    I  must  hasten  at 

once  to  Paul,  and  keep  with  him  until  he  is  strong 

enough  to  be  removed  to  some  distant  part  of  the 

country.      Adolph    Breen    will   doubtless   have   me 

dogged  by  detectives,  but  I  will  evade  him  to-day, 

surely,  and  once  in  that  remote  Cottage  we  shall  be 

safe  until  —  " 

"  Yes,  go,  go  at  once  before  it  is  too  late !  " 
"  Not  until  I  have  talked  with  you  a  little  about 
this  note-book,"  Tancredi  continued.  "  I  perceive 
now  that  it  must  have  belonged  to  Paul  himself, 
though  my  stupidity  was  so  dense  that  I  gath 
ered  from  what  had  been  said  that  it  was  the 
property  of  some  young  girl,  a  school  friend  of 
yours." 

"  Yes,  it  was  Paul's,"  said  Constance.     "  I  gave 


324      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

it  to  him,  and  he  always  carried  it.  I  could  not 
imagine  how  it  came  to  be  pawned." 

"  I  made  some  inquiries  at  the  pawnshop,  and  also 
looked  at  the  books  —  " 

"  Books?  "  Constance  repeated. 

"  Yes,  the  pawnbroker's  register  in  which  a  record 
of  the  pledge  is  made.  This  little  note-book  was 
pledged  by  a  tramp,  so  they  said,  who  gave  the  name 
'  Ed  Flyaway.'  " 

"  '  Ed  Flyaway  ?  '  how  could  it  be  —  Professor, 
that  was  a  family  nickname  for  Paul's  sister  Edith 
—  the  girl  who  was  killed.  How  could  —  " 

"  That  is  a  mystery,"  said  Tancredi  impressively, 
"  which  you  and  Millicent  and  Mr.  Twigg  must  try 
in  every  way  to  solve.  It  may  be  the  first  clue  to  dis 
covering  an  infamous  plot  against  Paul.  But  even 
more  than  this,  to  my  mind,  is  what  I  have  learned 
from  the  note-book  itself.  Paul  was  absorbed,  abso 
lutely  engrossed  and  absorbed,  in  a  deep  problem 
in  physics ;  his  work  was  of  a  dangerous  character, 
it  might  easily  have  caused  him  to  injure  himself 
seriously.  Talk  this  over  with  your  friends  —  there 
is  no  telling  how  far  it  may  lead.  I  don't  dare  to 
agitate  Paul  at  present,  but  just  as  soon  as  I  can 
question  him  in  the  light  of  what  I  already  know,  I 
will  surely  know  much  more.  And  now,  indeed,  I 
must  go.  Keep  strong  in  the  faith;  Paul  Breen  is 
an  innocent  man,  and  it  can  be  proved." 


THE   USELESS   WARNING          325 

"God  bless  you!"  again  said  Constance  faintly, 
as  she  sank  back  exhausted  in  her  chair,  pressing  her 
head  in  her  trembling  hands,  and  striving  to  quiet 
her  tumultuous  thoughts. 

An  hour  passed.  There  were  steps  light,  but  dis 
ordered,  in  the  hall-way,  and  Millicent,  her  face 
ghastly  pale  against  the  black  veil  tossed  back  from 
it,  hurried  into  the  room. 

"  Oh,  Constance,"  she  cried,  "  you  don't  know 
what  I  have  done!  " 

"  You  don't  know  what  has  happened !  "  cried 
Constance  in  turn,  and,  being  now  the  more  com 
posed  of  the  two,  she  explained  in  a  few  words  that 
it  was  Paul  whom  Tancredi  had  harbored  in  his 
college  rooms,  and  that  Tancredi  in  his  anxiety  to 
still  further  protect  him  was  now  hastening  to  join 
him  at  Tip-top  Cottage,  near  the  village  of  Hill 
Farms. 

"  Oh,  wretch  that  I  am,"  lamented  Millicent  pas 
sionately,  "  I  have  ruined  everything !  Quick,  Con 
stance,  give  me  all  the  money  you  have.  Already 
the  detectives  are  scouring  the  mountains  in  search 
of  Paul  —  through  me,  through  me,  miserable !  I 
must  fly  to  warn  them  before  it  is  too  late !  " 

Not  waiting  for  explanation,  advice  or  offer  of 
companionship,  Millicent  sped  like  the  wind  through 
the  streets,  and  soon  was  again  on  her  way  to  Car- 
teret,  where  she  was  fortunate  enough  to  make  a 


326      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

close  connection  for  the  mountains.  Realizing  that 
she  was  known  not  only  to  the  two  men  who  had 
followed  her  in  the  morning,  but  also  to  Naylor,  she 
learned  through  keen  questioning  of  the  conductor 
that,  by  leaving  the  train  at  a  station  beyond  Hill 
Farms>  she  could  drive  over  the  mountains  to  the 
Cottage,  and  possibly  might  save  time  by  doing  so. 

It  was  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  when  Milli- 
cent  alighted  at  this  remote  station.  She  was  ex 
hausted  from  exertion  and  excitement,  she  was  faint 
for  lack  of  food,  but  her  black  eyes  were  burning 
bravely.  After  some  delay,  she  found  a  farmer  who 
rather  reluctantly  agreed  to  drive  her  to  her  destina 
tion  in  his  open  wagon  —  the  only  conveyance  the 
place  afforded. 

"  We'll  be  in  for  a  wetting  among  the  hills,"  he 
grumbled ;  "  for  if  I  don't  miss  my  reckoning  that's 
a  thunder-head,  hanging  to  the  side  of  old  Mount 
Ben.  Folks  that  have  sense  keep  under  kiver  at 
sech  times  in  these  parts."  But  Millicent  by  lavish 
promises  urged  him  on,  still  grumbling. 

Old  Mount  Ben  sent  its  thunder-head,  surely 
enough,  heavy  and  low  across  the  sky.  Darkness 
brooded  over  the  hills.  The  wind  shrieked  through 
the  gullies,  and  the  rain  descended  in  torrents,  rent 
by  sulphurous  crashes,  and  lit  by  forked  flashes. 
Great  boughs  cracked  and  fell  from  the  trees,  and 
rocks  rolled  down  from  the  precipitous  banks.  The 


THE  USELESS   WARNING         327 

horses  shied  and  bolted,  with  the  rickety  wagon 
careening  dangerously  behind  them ;  but  the  farmer 
stuck  doggedly  to  his  task,  spurred  on  by  a  ceaseless 
flow  of  sarcasm,  flattery,  threat,  praise  and  assur 
ances  of  impossible  rewards. 

"  I  think  you're  crazy,"  at  length  he  said,  when 
the  short-lived  fury  of  the  storm  was  dissipating  in 
distant  rumbles. 

"  Not  now,  not  now,"  Millicent  replied,  "  though 
I'm  sure  I  was  this  morning!  Oh,  can't  you  make 
them  go  a  little  faster?  " 

Paul  and  Tancredi  had  watched  the  onset  and  con 
flict  of  the  tempest,  far  below  them,  from  the  win 
dows  of  their  pleasant  room  in  the  Cottage.  But, 
when  the  black  clouds,  flecked  with  yellow,  had 
changed  into  an  all-surrounding  mist,  like  the  limit 
less  ocean  at  the  base  of  an  islet,  they  resumed  their 
former  diversion  —  Tancredi  reading  aloud,  and 
Paul  listening  contentedly  from  the  old-fashioned 
lounge.  Suddenly,  upon  this  peaceful  scene,  there 
obtruded  the  moist  but  vehement  presence  of  Milli 
cent  Twigg. 

"  You  must  fly  without  a  moment's  delay !  "  she 
exclaimed.  "  The  officers  of  the  law  have  been  hunt 
ing  for  you  over  these  mountains  for  hours  —  ever 
since,  through  my  jealous  folly,  I  put  them  on  your 
track!  Fly,  fly,  at  once;  I  will  wait  and  mislead 
them!" 


Paul  rose  slowly  to  greet  this  startling  visitant, 
with  a  detached  air  in  which  there  lingered  not  a 
vestige  of  surprise.  But  in  an  instant  Tancredi  had 
thrown  his  ulster  around  her,  and  forced  a  glassful 
of  some  peppery  stuff  down  her  throat.  "  You  dar 
ling,"  he  protested,  as  he  wrung  the  rain-water  from 
her  skirts,  "  to  risk  your  life  to  atone  for  some  dear 
little  innocent  error  of  judgment,  for  which  I  love 
you  the  more,  if  it  were  possible  —  " 

"  Don't,  don't,  you  mustn't  —  at  least  not  now," 
pleaded  Millicent.  "Don't  you  hear  what  I  say? 
They  may  be  here  any  instant !  " 

Tancredi  looked  grave.  "  We  are  safe  enough 
while  this  fog  lasts,"  he  said,  "  but  it  will  probably 
clear  with  sunset.  You  say  you  kept  the  wagon 
waiting?  That  was  wise,  you  noble  girl.  We  will 
all  drive  to  the  junction  about  ten  miles  away,  where 
Paul  and  I  can  take  a  train  for  the  west,  while  you 
can  get  one  that  will  bring  you  home  not  much  after 
dark.  But  first  you  come  with  me  to  the  good 
woman  of  the  house  and  she  will  rig  you  out  in  some 
dry  clothing.  I  am  not  going  to  lose  you,  my  dear 
est  dear,  when  I  have  just  gained  you.  Paul,  you 
might  throw  the  fewest  things  we  can  get  along  with 
into  one  of  those  bags,  meanwhile." 

But  when  they  returned,  in  a  half  hour,  Paul  sat, 
reading  serenely,  by  the  window. 

"  I  am  not  going,"  he  said,  in  dull,  even  tones.    "  I 


THE  USELESS  WARNING         329 

may  have  lost  my  senses,  but  I  retain  my  sensibility. 
I  appreciate,  Tancredi,  faithful  friend,  all  you  have 
done  for  me.  I  have  accepted  it,  too,  reasoning, 
selfishly,  I  fear,  that,  after  all,  you  had  taken  no 
active  part  in  my  escape,  and  could  not  be  blamed  as 
a  physician  for  not  surrendering  your  patient.  But 
now,  if  you  attempt  to  elude  the  officers  of  the  law, 
with  the  full  knowledge  that  they  know  that  we  are 
together,  your  career  will  be  ruined.  I  am  calm 
now,  as  you  see ;  but,  if  you  oppose  me,  if  you  argue 
with  me,  you  may  excite  me  to  lasting  injury.  Here 
I  remain  —  I  will  not  go  with  you ;  I  am  too  feeble, 
too  shattered  in  mind,  still,  to  go  alone !  It  is  your 
duty  to  protect  yourself,  to  shield  this  kind  young 
lady  from  possible  scandal.  There  is  no  more  to 
say.  The  decision  is  mine,  and  it  is  final !  " 

There  was  no  more  to  say.  As  a  physician,  Tan 
credi  dared  not  resist ;  as  a  friend,  he  felt  that  after 
all  he  might  serve  Paul  better  by  striving  to  prove 
his  innocence  than  by  striving  to  keep  him  a  fugitive 
from  justice.  Sadly,  though  with  an  intimate  joy 
of  their  own  in  their  hearts,  Tancredi  and  Millicent 
drove  to  the  junction;  while  Paul  read  serenely  by 
the  window,  waiting  until  the  mountain  mists  should 
roll  away,  and  bring  his  pursuers  to  him. 


CHAPTER    XXIII 

OUT    OF    HIS    OWN    MOUTH 

IT  was  Friday,  the  seventh  of  July  —  the  Friday 
before  the  meeting  of  the  National  Convention.  Al 
ready  the  waves  of  excitement,  radiating  from  the 
far-off  western  city  in  which  the  political  clans  were 
about  to  gather,  were  surging  and  throbbing  through 
the  eastern  town  of  Hamlin,  where  lived  the  one  man 
who,  above  all  others,  stood  out  preeminent  in  popu 
lar  judgment  as  the  logical  candidate. 

The  "Young  Men's  Reform  Club,"  with  the 
legend  "  Strain  and  Justice  "  emblazoned  on  its  ban 
ner,  was  to  start  that  evening  for  the  Convention, 
there  to  add  practical  influence  to  the  moral  weight 
which  gave  it  distinction.  As  an  inevitable  condition 
precedent  to  its  departure,  there  would  be  a  serenade, 
affording  the  Governor  a  golden  opportunity  to  stir 
the  ardor  and  intensify  the  convictions  of  his  ad 
herents  by  a  formal  speech. 

John  Strain  did  not  go  to  the  Capital  that  day, 
but  remained  quietly  within  his  home.  His  old- 
fashioned  ideas  of  dignity,  which  thus  withheld  him 

330 


OUT  OF  HIS  OWN  MOUTH       331 

from  the  sight  of  men,  did  not  interfere  with  that 
unobtrusive  work  which  is  most  effective.  Through 
the  telephone  he  was  in  constant  communication 
with  his  lieutenants.  Special  messengers  kept  ar 
riving  with  letters  and  telegrams;  and  now  and 
again  the  gravelled  driveway  crunched  under  the 
roll  of  a  closed  carriage;  or  some  furtive  form 
darted  through  the  deep  portico  and  unlatched  por 
tals  for  that  whispered  talk  of  two  which  men  delight 
to  call  a  conference.  He  had  the  strings  well  in 
hand,  had  John  Strain ;  and  the  marionettes  were 
bobbing  responsive  to  his  will. 

Mrs.  Strain  moved  restlessly  through  the  lower 
rooms,  seeing  for  the  thousandth  time  that  exact 
order  prevailed.  Her  complex  nature  could  not  view 
her  husband's  increasing  honors  in  a  simple,  direct 
way.  She  had,  in  his  fortunes,  a  faith  that  assured 
her  he  would  be  President.  The  idea  pleased  her 
pride,  especially  when  she  thought  of  the  triumph  it 
would  be  over  their  neighbors  and  friends.  It  grati 
fied  her  affection,  too,  which  found  its  object  in  the 
ideal  conception  rather  than  the  real  presence  of 
her  husband.  As  she  thought  of  him,  she  always 
admired  and  loved  him;  as  she  saw  him,  he  often 
tantalized  and  offended  her.  She,  therefore,  feared 
that  the  future  might  be  as  distressful  for  her  as  it 
would  be  glorious  for  him;  and  that  the  higher  he 
rose,  the  more  remote  he  would  be  from  her.  In 


332      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL  BREEN 

matrimony's  community  of  interests,  she  felt  that 
she  was  but  a  silent  partner,  and  she  resented  her 
lack  of  influence  as  much  as  she  clung  to  her  pro- 
prietory  rights.  So  she  fretted,  the  widening  vistas 
giving  scope  to  her  jealous  imagination,  until,  as 
she  stood  by  his  side,  that  evening,  in  the  front  par 
lor,  a  stiff,  awkward  figure  in  the  heavy  silk  she 
affected,  every  nerve  and  fibre  cried  out  for  a  chance 
or  incident  to  break  through  his  amiable  but  hateful 
indifference,  to  arouse  and  hold  his  attention  by 
provocation  or  exasperation,  to  wage  any  kind  of 
battle,  however  insidious  or  unfair,  if  only  thereby 
she  might  gain  a  blessed  relief  from  the  tension. 

Beneath  his  indifference  to  the  normal,  habitual 
attributes  of  his  daily  life,  somewhere  among  which 
his  wife  was  obscurely  numbered,  John  Strain's 
heart  was  beating  exultantly,  as  it  kept  in  rhythmic 
unison  with  the  tap,  tap,  of  the  approaching  drums. 
They  were  coming,  the  first  emissaries  of  the  people, 
to  call  him  to  his  task.  From  this  hour  on,  he  would 
become  a  personage  of  national  importance,  as  im 
pressive,  as  grandiose,  as  the  lure  of  his  ambition 
had  ever  depicted ;  a  king  among  men,  destined  to 
join  the  mighty,  superhuman  beings  that  made  the 
world's  history.  His  nerves  and  fibres  cried  out, 
too,  but  with  conscious  power,  pledging  him  that, 
whatever  the  duty,  whatever  the  emergency,  he  and 
they  would  be  more  than  equal  to  it. 


OUT  OF  HIS  OWN  MOUTH         333 

The  cornet  gave  its  note  of  warning,  the  band 
broke  tumultuously  into  "  Hail  to  the  Chief,"  the 
crowd  pressed  and  cheered ;  and,  amid  burst  of 
bomb  and  whiz  of  rocket,  John  Strain,  "  in  triumph 
advancing,"  strode  out  to  meet  and  greet  his  neigh 
bors.  A  stalwart,  commanding  figure  he  made  on 
the  rostrum  of  the  portico  —  another  and  a  braver 
Webster  come  to  the  defence  of  even  more  sacred 
rights.  His  pose  and  port  compelled  silence;  and 
then  he  spoke,  not  with  oratorical  graces,  but  with 
the  simple  seriousness  of  friend  to  friend  over  a 
matter  of  grave  and  mutual  importance. 

He  told  them  that  their  democracy  should  be  that 
true  aristocracy  —  the  government  of  the  good. 
That  the  birthright  of  every  American  was  responsi 
bility  for  the  common  weal.  That  upon  the  young 
men,  especially,  rested  the  obligation  of  the  living 
law. 

"  This  obligation,"  he  thundered,  changing  from 
the  conversational  to  the  prophetical  in  harmony 
with  the  increasing  impressiveness  of  his  thought, 
"  will  not  down  unless  it  drags  with  it  the  whole 
temple  of  this  great  nation.  Either  our  laws,  those 
rules  of  conduct  prescribed  by  the  supreme  will  of 
the  people,  must  be  executed  without  fear,  favor, 
exception  or  reservation ;  or  the  latest  flower  of 
civilization,  the  first  practical  experiment  of  self- 
government,  will  perish  from  the  face  of  the  earth. 


334     THE   CASE  OF   PAUL   BREEN 

This  is  the  duty  of  the  hour;  this  is  the  message 
you  must  bear  to  the  representatives  of  our  party 
about  to  assemble  in  national  council.  It  may  well 
be  that  I  shall  not  be  chosen  to  the  high  position  of 
chief  executive,  before  whose  awful  responsibilities 
ambition  shrinks  abashed,  and  duty  falters;  it  may 
well  be  that  a  kindlier,  if  less  glorious  fate  reserves 

me  for  a  quiet  life  among  you,  my  friends.     But  the 

• 

duty,  the  issue,  remain  insistent,  preeminent.  In 
every  case  and  in  any  event,  we  must  render  unto 
each  man  according  to  his  deeds,  be  they  good  or 
evil ;  for  so,  my  fellow-citizens,  will  inexorable  Jus 
tice,  in  turn,  render  unto  us." 

The  magnetism,  produced  by  perfect  health,  un 
usual  strength  and  impassioned  and  absolute  con 
viction,  all  concentrated  upon  utterance,  held  the 
throng  spell-bound  until  John  Strain,  with  a  smile, 
dismissed  himself  from  the  tripod  and  became  a 
mortal  once  more,  cordially  inviting  all  present  to 
the  hospitality  of  his  home. 

The  band  scurried  around  the  house  into  the  rear 
hall,  there  to  "  discourse  "  occasionally,  while  the 
company  were  discoursing  incessantly.  The  hosts 
resumed  their  station  directly  under  the  chandelier 
in  the  front  parlor,  letting  their  light  so  shine  that 
all  might  behold  those  noblest  works  of  God,  an 
honest  man  and  his  wife.  And  then  the  line  began 
to  advance,  disorderly  through  the  portico,  with 


OUT  OF  HIS  OWN  MOUTH       335 

decorum  through  the  parlors,  each  one,  as  he  passed, 
striving  to  drop  that  rarest  and  most  elusive  coin, 
a  word  in  season,  in  the  candidate's  mental  hat,  to 
wind  and  press,  boastful  and  greedy,  around  the 
dining-room  table. 

John  Strain  liked  it  all  exceeding  well.  The  rev 
erence  with  which  he  was  approached,  the  hearti 
ness  with  which  he  was  praised,  were  the  echoes  of 
his  fancy,  the  confirmation  of  his  judgment.  His 
faith  in  the  people  was  strengthened  —  that  faith 
which  depends  so  much  upon  a  sublime  lack  of  the 
sense  of  humor. 

And  Mrs.  Strain,  too,  would  have  been  pleased, 
had  only  the  exigencies  of  her  nature  permitted. 
The  glow  aroused  by  flattery  now  and  again  man 
tled  her  cheek;  but,  beneath  its  somewhat  acidu 
lated  damask,  the  worm  of  distrust  kept  gnawing. 
Her  little  eyes  sparkled  at  times  with  satisfaction, 
only  to  pick  up  and  hold  out  once  more  the  sharper 
light  of  suspicion,  like  constables  caught  napping. 
Her  ears  bent  to  hear  the  honeyed  words,  yet  were 
all  intent  on  the  whispers  which  passed  between  the 
Governor  and  certain  of  his  intimates.  Something, 
in  some  way,  must  be  discovered  which  would  at 
once  justify  and  satisfy  the  irritation  of  mind  and 
nerves  which  possessed  her. 

The  full  length  of  the  line  had  gone  by;  Mrs. 
Strain  had  already  joined  the  knot  of  ladies  who,  in 


336      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

a  secondary  way,  had  participated  in  the  reception; 
the  Governor,  with  dignified  deliberateness,  was  pre 
paring  to  move  in  sundry  places,  like  the  Scriptures, 
when  a  tall  figure,  venerable  from  its  flowing  white 
beard,  with  cane  extended,  felt  its  way  toward  the 
centre  of  the  parlor.  It  was  Phineas  Twigg,  the 
court  Crier.  John  Strain  turned  quickly  to  greet 
the  old  functionary,  while  his  wife,  scenting  oppor 
tunity,  grew  oblivious  to  what  her  gossips  were 
saying. 

"Governor  Strain," '  Phineas  began,  his  delicate 
fingers  wandering  over  the  other's  massive  hand, 
as  if  interpreting  upraised  letters,  "  I  congratulate 
you  sincerely  on  the  prospect  of  still  greater  honors. 
I  have  always  known  you  to  be  a  man  of  public 
integrity,  devoted  to  what  you  deemed  the  right. 
You  have  been,  and  I  believe  you  will  be,  a  faithful 
servant  of  the  people.  As  such,  you  have  my  sup 
port." 

All  this  was  very  well,  yet  not  quite  well  enough 
for  the  Governor's  swollen  approbation.  "  The 
right  cannot  be  relative,"  he  replied  stiffly. 

Phineas  Twigg  smiled  gently  as  he  drew 
nearer.  "  The  letter  of  the  law  killeth,"  he  mur 
mured. 

"  A  law  is  not  a  law  that  is  not  enforced,"  pro 
claimed  the  Draconian  Strain,  not  sorry  to  be  over 
heard  creating  a  legal  maxim. 


OUT  OF  HIS   OWN   MOUTH       337 

"  There  is  something  higher  than  justice,"  Twigg 
persisted,  "  laud  it  how  you  may." 

"  And  what  may  that  be,  sir?  " 

"  Mercy." 

"  The  law  has  nothing  to  do  with  mercy." 

"  Ah,  no,"  assented  the  blind  man  sadly,  "  and 
that  is  why  the  law  is  still  so  distinct  from  equity. 
But,  Mr.  Governor,"  he  continued,  his  white  beard 
sweeping  the  other's  face  in  his  anxiety  to  keep  his 
darling  purpose  from  those  who  had  been  attracted 
by  their  talk,  among  whom  Abigail  Alice  was  in  all 
respects  the  most  conspicuous ;  "  But,  your  Excel 
lency,  mercy  is  a  prerogative  of  your  office,  and  I 
beg,  I  beseech  you,  at  this  time  of  your  uplifting,  to 
extend  it  to  one  just  as  far  in  the  depths  —  " 

"  To  whom  do  you  refer?  " 

"  To  Paul  Breen." 

"  What,  you  ask  mercy  for  an  escaped  convict, 
still  at  large,  in  contempt,  in  defiance  of  the  just 
judgment  of  a  competent  tribunal  — " 

"  Only  after  he  has  been  recaptured,  as  he  soon 
must  be  with  the  enormous  reward  offered  for  him," 
explained  Twigg.  "  Then,  only  then,  it  is  that  I 
entreat  you,  when  the  hopeless,  deadly  routine  of 
his  punishment  has  been  resumed,  to  review  the 
evidence  of  his  case.  I  am  positive  of  his  inno 
cence  —  " 

"  Oh,  you  still  cling  to  that  fetich  of  yours?  " 


338     THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

"  I  have  verified  it,"  Phineas  asserted  firmly. 
"  Constance  Sanderson  and  I  have  not  been  idle. 
We  have  proof  that  Paul  was  engrossed  in  scientific 
experiment  at  that  very  time,  so  dangerous  that  the 
slightest  slip  might  have  caused  the  injury  which  he 
believed  he  had  suffered.  We  have  proof  of  mys 
terious  machinations  against  him  —  a  note-book,  in 
which  he  kept  his  most  secret  formulae,  was  pawned 
on  the  very  morning  of  the  railway  accident  by  a 
tramp,  in  the  name  of  '  Ed  Flyaway '  —  Edith's 
own  nickname  —  " 

"  Well,  well,  Phineas,"  the  Governor  interrupted 
soothingly,  "  I'll  see,  I'll  see.  But  we  must  first 
catch  the  hare,  you  know,  as  the  saying  is.  If  you 
have  new  evidence  of  a  serious  nature,  you  can 
then  submit  it  to  me  with  the  assurance  that  it  shall 
have  most  careful  consideration.  But  I  have  al 
ready  had  one  cock-and-bull  story  from  a  tramp  — 
the  very  rascal  who  assisted  in  the  escape  —  and  I 
hardly  think  I  want  any  more  of  that  sort  of 
proof;"  and  with  a  look,  half-pitying,  half-impa 
tient,  he  turned  to  one  of  the  groups  of  his  guests. 

The  last  rocket  had  sputtered,  the  crowd  had  dis 
persed,  taking  their  cheers  with  them,  the  Young 
Men's  Reform  Club  had  swung  down  the  street  to 
the  station  to  the  tune  of  "  When  Johnny  Comes 
Marching  Home  Again,"  and  John  Strain  was  alone 
in  his  library.  His  chest  still  heaved  proudly  over 


OUT  OF  HIS  OWN   MOUTH        339 

his  exultant  heart.  His  eyes  still  blazed  with  the 
fires  of  power  and  primacy.  "  I'll  get  there,"  he 
muttered,  "  I'll  get  there  sure!  Why,  the  very  stars 
in  their  courses  are  fighting  for  me.  The  people 
can't  think  of  more  than  one  thing  at  a  time,  and 
their  minds  are  now  set  on  my  identification  with 
the  cause  of  justice.  Oh,  that  proclamation  was  as 
politically  shrewd  as  it  was  righteous;  and  my 
speech  of  to-night  will  confirm  my  position  on  the 
supremacy  of  the  law." 

He  stepped  to  a  long  mirror  and  surveyed  himself 
from  head  to  foot.  "  You're  a  strong  man,  John 
Strain,"  he  soliloquized.  "  From  first  to  last  you 
have  been  a  great,  big  strong  man.  I  swear,  when 
I  contemplate  your  career,  I'm  proud  of  you, 
damned  if  I  ain't !  Up,  up,  up,  you've  climbed, 
never  hesitating,  never  getting  dizzy,  never  miss 
ing  a  rung  or  losing  your  head.  Mr.  District  At 
torney,  I  salute  you;  Mr.  Governor,  I  salute  you; 
Mr.  President  —  Bosh ;  what  am  I  thinking  of  — 
that  sounds  too  much  like  the  tragedy  of  Macbeth! 
Is  my  vanity  playing  the  part  of  the  witches?  No, 
no ;  Macbeth 's  success  was  founded  on  crime,  while 
mine  is  founded  on  good  works.  No  Glamis,  Caw- 
dor,  and  then  a  smash-up  for  me,  while  Justice  does 
her  perfect  rendering." 

Again  John  Strain  scanned  his  reflection  in  the 
mirror.  Perhaps  the  flickering  gas-jet  cast  a 


340     THE   CASE   OF   PAUL  BREEN 

strange  shadow.  Perhaps  some  uninvited,  uncon 
scious  impulse  of  thought  left  the  trace  of  its  swift 
ness  on  his  brow.  At  all  events,  he  caught  an  odd 
look,  a  mere  turn  o>f  the  eyes,  doubtless,  yet  for  an 
instant  again  recalling,  again  resembling  even,  the 
face  of  Paul  Breen,  calm,  candid,  unconquer 
able.  In  an  instant  it  had  come  and  it  was  gone; 
yet  the  time  served  to  make  this  strong  man 
weak. 

As  he  stood,  displeased,  perplexed,  mortified,  the 
door  opened,  and  Mrs.  Strain  advanced  intrepidly 
to  the  fray.  "  What  was  that  old  humbug  of  a 
Phineas  Twigg  saying  to  you?  "  she  demanded. 

Now,  this  question  was  exactly  the  last  one  that 
John  Strain  cared  to  answer;  for  it  involved  a  dis 
cussion  of  the  one  person  whom  he  was  again  re 
solving  to  keep  out  of  his  mind. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  he  replied  evasively;  "you 
can  hardly  expect  me  to  recollect  all  the  common 
places  I  was  forced  to  hear,  can  you?  " 

"  Men  don't  get  half  inside  of  your  ear  to  whisper 
commonplaces,  nor  do  they  look  like  a  Hebrew 
prophet  while  doing  it,  either." 

"  But,  my  dear,  I  have  already  explained  to  you 
that  whatever  it  was,  I  do  not  recall  it  —  don't  you 
think  you  are  a  trifle  unreasonable?" 

"  Un-reas-on-able  ? "  repeated  Mrs.  Strain  in 
shrillest  staccato,  "*is  it  unreasonable  to  doubt  a  lie  ? 


OUT  OF  HIS  OWN  MOUTH       341 

He  brought  you  a  message  from  that  creature  he 
is  harboring,  from  Constance  Sanderson,  you  know 
he  did.  I  distinctly  heard  her  name." 

"  You  are  mistaken,  madam;  "  and  the  Governor 
seated  himself  at  his  desk,  and  turned  over  some  of 
its  voluminous  papers. 

"  Oh,  you  can't  put  me  off  with  any  of  your  Ex 
ecutive  airs,"  cried  his  wife  passionately;  "  I  know 
better;  I  heard  it,  I  heard  it,  I  say!  It  isn't  the 
first  time,  either,  that  you  have  had  a  secret  com 
munication  from  that  creature.  Do  you  think  I'm 
blind  as  well  as  deaf  and  dumb?  When  she  was 
here,  didn't  she  fairly  live  in  this  room,  while  I, 
your  lawful  wife,  was  made  to  feel  like  an  intruder? 
When  she  was  driven  out,  didn't  she  have  the  au 
dacity  to  leave  you  a  package,  a  token  of  some  sort, 
before  my  very  eyes?  And  yet,  such  a  man  as  this 
dares  to  prate  about  justice  and  to  hope  for  the 
Presidency.  I  tell  you,  if  you  get  the  one,  you'll 
never  get  the  other.  Oh,  oh  —  "  And  finding  the 
inadequacy  of  language  a  still  great  aggravation, 
Mrs.  Strain  swept  out  of  the  room  on  the  whirlwind 
of  her  passions. 

John  Strain  laughed  heartily  over  this  last  vicious 
quip  of  his  wife's,  which  was  too  similar  to  forensic 
amenities  not  to  be  appreciated.  The  little  diver 
sion  of  her  attack  was  just  what  was  needed  to 
restore  his  mental  equilibrium;  and  now  he  was 


342     THE   CASE  OF   PAUL   BREEN 

himself  again,  though  with  spirits  somewhat  re 
laxed. 

"  Poor  old  Abigail,"  he  mused,  "  she'll  cut  a 
novel  figure  in  the  White  House,  to  be  sure.  I 
wonder  what's  eating  her  now?  What  was  it  she 
said  —  that  Constance  Sanderson  gave  me  some 
token  on  leaving  ?  What  nonsense !  But  let  me  see, 
though  —  let  me  see." 

By  a  strong  mental  effort  he  recalled  the  incidents 
of  the  evening  when  Constance  had  been  driven 
from  his  home.  Yes,  the  girl  had  handed  him 
something,  a  package,  done  up  in  white  tissue  paper, 
and  bound  with  black  ribbon  —  at  the  same  time 
referring  to  his  kindness  to  her.  What  the  deuce 
had  become  of  it?  He  recalled  his  talk  with  Adolph 
in  that  very  room,  the  library,  wincing  as  he  recol 
lected  that  it  had  been  concerning  Paul  —  the  eter 
nal  Paul.  Yes,  again;  he  had  tossed  it  on  the 
shelves,  of  course,  and  it  must  have  fallen  down 
behind  his  bookcase,  as  some  important  papers  once 
had  fallen.  Otherwise,  Mrs.  Strain's  sharp  eyes 
would  have  ferreted  it  out.  Why  shouldn't  he 
look  for  it  now? 

With  an  almost  boyish  eagerness  Governor  John 
Strain  got  down  on  his  reverential  hands  and  knees, 
and  fished  under  the  shelves  with  his  cane  until  he 
drew  out  the  identical  package,  its  virginal  hues 
somewhat  marred  by  dust.  He  took  off  the  wrapper, 


OUT  OF  HIS  OWN  MOUTH       343 

and  discovered  a  book,  the  leather  binding  black  and 
shining  from  years. 

"  Hullo,"  he  muttered,  as  he  resumed  his  seat 
and  put  on  his  glasses,  "  this  is  something  of  a 
find.  The  learned  De  Lyra,  by  Jove,  and  a  first  edi 
tion,  at  that!  It  must  have  belonged  to  her  father, 
the  old  parson." 

John  Strain  examined  title  and  colophon.  With 
the  particularity  of  a  book-lover,  he  carefully  moved 
the  covers  back  and  forth.  As  he  did  so,  a  paper, 
filled  with  the  fine,  cramped  hand,  so  often  seen  in 
clerical  manuscripts,  fell  on  the  desk  before  him. 
It  was  a  letter,  addressed  to  himself,  and  signed, 
"  Samuel  Sanderson."  It  ran  as  follows  :  — 

"  I  am  constrained  by  a  sense  of  impending  mor 
tality  to  inform  you  by  letter  that  a  few  months 
since  Mrs.  Neil  Breen,  a  member  of  my  church  at 
Gloriosa,  moved  by  anxiety  for  her  soul's  salvation, 
confided  to  me  as  her  pastor  the  story  of  her  early 
life.  When  but  a  young  girl,  she  went  through 
some  form  of  ceremony,  whether  legal  or  not  she 
hardly  knew,  with  a  youth  of  her  native  village,  and, 
thereafter,  for  a  brief  period,  they  secretly  consorted 
as  man  and  wife. 

"  This  young  man,  however,  instigated  by  worldly 
motives,  brutally  cast  her  off,  declaring  the  marriage 
a  sham.  She  ran  away  from  home,  married  Neil 
Breen,  and  settled  with  him  in  the  southwest.  But 


344     THE   CASE   OF   PAUL  BREEN 

she  never  told  him,  nor  had  he  reason  to  suspect, 
that  she  was  not  the  maid  he  thought  her,  or  that 
Paul  Breen,  whom  he  unquestionably  recognized  as 
his  oldest  child,  was  in  reality  the  offspring  of  this 
former  and  perhaps  meretricious  union. 

"  I  advised  her  that  it  was  best  to  let  well  enough 
alone,  and  that  she  must  bear  by  herself  the  cross 
of  her  sin  and  deceit,  lest  some  greater  evil  should 
spring  from  it;  being  persuaded  especially  thereto 
by  the  present  happiness  of  all  concerned  and  the 
nature  of  the  man,  Neil  Breen,  who,  though  or 
dinarily  easy-going,  was  yet  inclined,  when  enraged, 
to  strong  drink  and  consequent  violence. 

"  In  thus  putting  expediency  before  right,  I  now 
feel  that  I,  too,  have  sinned;  and  I  bow  humbly 
and  in  contrition  before  the  just  wrath  of  the  Al 
mighty. 

"  Mark  this  —  how  events  war  against  those  who 
neglect  to  follow  implicitly  the  divine  light.  This 
very  evening,  in  this  remote  western  town  of  F're- 
montia,  surrounded  by  utter  strangers,  I  was  moved 
by  a  sense  of  security,  and  in  a  spirit  of  vainglory, 
to  detail  this  story  at  a  revival  meeting,  as  a  warn 
ing  against  impulsive  and  ill-considered  confession, 
mentioning  the  parents  but  generally,  of  course,  yet, 
in  my  earnestness  giving  particulars  by  which  any 
of  their  acquaintances  might  identify  them,  and  even 
referring  to  the  boy  Paul,  and  to  a  younger  child, 


OUT  OF  HIS   OWN  MOUTH       345 

Edith,  by  their  baptismal  names.  At  that  very  mo 
ment  of  my  self-complacent  folly  I  raised  mine  eyes; 
and  lo,  this  Neil  Breen,  who,  I  had  so  confidently 
assured  myself,  was  a  thousand  miles  away,  was 
rushing  headlong  from  the  church,  his  face  distorted 
with  rage  and  revenge,  like  one  possessed  of  a  devil. 

"  I  have  sought  him  everywhere,  but  in  vain;  and 
now,  as  a  last  resort,  not  knowing  at  what  hour 
the  last  summons  cometh,  I  write  to  warn  you  to 
protect  this  woman,  bone  of  thy  bone,  and  flesh  of 
thy  flesh  in  the  sight  of  God,  and  this  hapless  youth, 
Paul  Breen,  the  fruit  of  thy  loins;  for  she,  in  the 
days  when  her  comeliness  tempted  thee,  was  called 
Mary  Lane ;  and  thou,  John  Strain,  —  thou  art  the 
man! 

"  Don't  think  to  evade  thy  sacred  duty  and  re 
sponsibility,  or  to  hide  thyself  from  an  offended 
God.  Though  years  elapse,  burying  the  past  in  their 
ruins,  though  interests,  ambitions,  wealth  and  sta 
tion  all  combine  to  cause  thee  to  forget ;  at  the  acme 
of  thy  fate,  in  the  hour  of  thy  triumph,  this  secret 
sin  shall  find  thee  out ! 

"  For  thus  saith  the  Lord  God  that  faileth  not :  — 
'  Thou  didst  it  secretly,  but  I  will  do  this  thing  be 
fore  all  Israel  and  before  the  sun ! ' 

John  Strain  grew  livid  and  cold,  like  one  before 
the  bar  of  Omniscience.  He  never  doubted  the 
truth  of  the  message.  It  was  set  in  his  brain  in 


346       THE   CASE   OF   PAUL  BREEN 

letters  of  living  fire.  Mary,  Mary  Lane,  whom  he 
had  so  ruthlessly  sacrificed  to  his  ambition,  but  yet 
had  loved  after  his  fashion  of  preferring  himself  — 
Mary  Lane,  passing  from  his  sight  forever,  a 
pathetic,  despairing  figure,  with  the  bowed  head  of 
womanly  resignation,  dead,  long  years  ago.  Paul, 
Paul  Breen,  whom  he  had  pursued  so  relentlessly, 
of  whose  misfortunes  he  had  made  the  stepping- 
stones  to  success,  his  own,  his  only  son!  Oh,  the 
irony  of  fate!  To  think  of  his  proclamation,  with 
its  absurd  apotheosis  of  Justice !  To  think  of  his 
boasting  of  the  supremacy  of  the  law!  Out  of  his 
own  mouth  was  he  condemned!  For  the  first  time 
in  his  life  John  Strain  saw  himself  as  he  really  was; 
and,  like  our  first  parents  in  Eden,  he  was  ashamed 
of  his  nakedness.  Before  the  eternal  tribunal,  which 
had  thus  suddenly  summoned  him  .from  the  petty 
pomps  and  vanities  of  the  world,  his  spirit  bowed  its 
head  and  pleaded  "  guilty." 

Then  the  universal  human  impulse  to  seek  the  line 
of  least  resistance,  which  men  call  hope,  asserted 
itself.  Paul  was  missing;  he  could  not  be  found. 
It  might  be  years  before  there  was  a  trace  of  him  — 
and  Strain  himself  could  call  off  the  bloodhounds 
already  on  the  fugitive's  track.  Meanwhile,  public 
interests  should  not  be  allowed  to  suffer;  in  the 
eyes  of  the  people  he  still  was  all  he  had  seemed  to 
be.  Why,  then,  should  he  not  make  himself  as 


OUT  OF  HIS   OWN   MOUTH       347 

mighty  as  possible,  for  the  very  reason  that  he  might 
be  the  better  able  to  serve  his  son  when  the  fitting 
season  came?  Oh,  he  would  make  good,  he  would 
requite,  a  hundredfold  —  but  now,  but  now  — 

The  front-door  bell  rang  violently  —  once,  twice, 
—  unusual  sounds,  at  that  late  hour,  in  his  quiet 
home.  Presently,  the  maid  half-dressed,  announced 
sleepily  that  Mr.  Adolph  Breen  and  the  two  State 
detectives  were  below. 

"  Tell  Mr.  Breen  to  wait,"  John  Strain  ordered, 
"  and  show  the  two  men  up."  But  scarcely  had  the 
maid  started  away  than  Adolph  appeared. 

"  My  God,  Governor,"  he  exclaimed,  upon  seeing 
Strain's  attitude,  "  what  is  the  matter  ?  You  haven't 
gone  stale,  have  you,  before  the  race  is  fairly  be- 
gun?" 

"  Oh,  it  is  nothing,  nothing  but  a  little  temporary 
fatigue.  You  must  go  down  and  wait,  Adolph,  — 
wait  until  I  have  seen  Joe  and  Jake." 

"  But  I  have  news,  urgent  news,  of  vital  impor 
tance  —  " 

"  Go  down,  I  tell  you,"  commanded  the  Governor,, 
pushing  the  young  man  from  the  door,  as  the  two 
detectives  came  up  the  stairs. 


CHAPTER    XXIV 

PAYING   THE    PENALTY 

THE  events  of  the  day  had  been  too  exasperating 
for  Adolph  Breen's  composure,  settled  and  char 
acteristic  though  it  was.  He  paced  the  lower  hall, 
aflame  with  impatience  and  chagrin;  and,  when  at 
length  Joe  and  Jake  slowly  descended,  under  a  joint 
burden  of  bewilderment,  he  shot  up  the  stairs  past 
them,  according  not  even  a  curt  nod  to  their  salutes. 
"  I  thought  I  was  of  more  importance  than  two 
snide  detectives,"  he  complained,  as  he  burst  into 
the  library. 

John  Strain  closed  the  door,  and  seated  himself 
at  his  desk  in  the  shadow  of  the  drop-light.  "  Sit 
down,  Adolph,  and  calm  yourself,"  he  said  gravely. 
"  It  was  the  importance  of  the  thing,  not  the  per 
sons,  that  governed  me  —  a  matter  of  the  highest 
consequence." 

"  I  doubt  if  it  is  as  exigent  as  the  news  I  bring." 

"And  that  is?" 

"  I  know  Paul's  whereabouts.  He  is  hid  in  a 
farm-house  on  the  mountains,  not  many  miles  from 

348 


PAYING  THE   PENALTY  349 

Carteret.  You  must  issue  your  request  for  extradi 
tion  at  once.  I,  myself,  will  take  it  to  the  Governor, 
and  see  that  a  warrant  is  issued  and  executed.  To 
morrow's  evening  papers,  filled  as  they  will  be  with 
editorial  comment  on  your  speech  to  the  Reform 
Club,  will  also  carry  the  telegraphic  news  of  the 
arrest.  Nothing,  nothing,  could  be  so  pat.  It  is  the 
dramatic  climax  —  an  illustration  of  your  words,  a 
proof  that  you  are  as  sure  practically  as  you  are 
sound  philosophically.  It  makes  you  the  man  of  the 
hour,  indeed;  and  drives  home  and  clinches  the 
nomination.  Come,  let  me  act  as  your  amanu 
ensis." 

But  the  Governor  shook  his  head,  as  he  restrained 
the  other  with  a  gesture.  "  Let  us  look  before'  we 
leap,"  he  objected.  "  I  fear  it  would  not  be  politic 
ally  wise  after  all.  Sometimes,  too  much  of  a  good 
thing  is  bad.  The  speech  was  all  right  in  its  way; 
it  will  serve  as  a  slogan.  Why  emphasize  it  with 
any  particular  case  ?  Human  nature  is  a  pendulum ; 
when  its  sense  of  outrage  has  been  appeased  it 
straightway  swings  back  to  pity.  It  is  a  short  step 
from  prosecution  to  persecution,  my  boy;  and  I 
don't  care  to  take  it  just  at  this  time.  Let  well 
enough  alone,  I  say." 

Adolph  stared  as  if  the  Governor  were  mad. 
"  Why,  why  — "  he  stammered,  "  you  don't 
mean  —  " 


350      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

"  I  mean  that  I  shall  hold  the  arrest  of  Paul  Breen 
for  future  deliberation." 

:i  You  mean  that  you  hesitate  about  arresting 
him  ?  "  repeated  Adolph,  still  bewildered. 

"  There,  there,"  said  Strain  in  a  fatherly  way. 
"  Don't  let  us  fritter  away  the  enlarging,  the  glori 
ous  present  by  disputing  about  trifles.  I  like  you, 
Adolph,  I  have  confidence  in  you.  High  as  I  am 
to  climb,  I  yet  have  the  strength  to  take  you  along 
with  me.  You  are  recognized  as  my  right-hand 
man;  very  well,  then,  where  does  the  President's 
right-hand  man  sit  ?  I  make  no  promises,  you  know 
me  too  well  to  need  them;  but  keep  your  faith  in 
me,  believe  that  I  have  sufficient  motives,  good  mo 
tives,  yes,  the  best  of  motives  for  what  I  do,  even 
though  I  don't  always  explain,  and  there  is  no  limit 
to  what  I  will  do  for  you  in  return.  I'm  glad  you 
came  in,  to-night ;  I  was  just  about  to  send  for  you. 
The  situation  is  fine,  improving  every  hour,  but 
there's  work  to  do.  I  want  you  to  take  the  first 
train  west  and  stay  day  and  night  at  my  headquar 
ters  as  my  personal  representative.  See  those  tele 
grams?  Some  of  the  delegates  are  already  ar 
rived;  they  should  be  coddled  and  kept  stead 
fast.  The  National  Committee  have  a  session 
Monday  evening,  when  the  platform  will  be  dis 
cussed  Now,  I  want  it  distinctly  understood  that 
my  principles,  my  views,  must  not  only  be  recog- 


PAYING  THE   PENALTY  351 

nized,  but  adopted,  promulgated  as  fundamental 
planks  —  " 

"  Your  principles,  your  views,"  cried  Adolph, 
"  what  are  they  ?  You  have  belied  and  repudiated 
them.  Do  you  think  that  I  am  going  to  stultify 
myself  by  standing  for  such  a  weather-vane  of  a 
man?  No,  sir;  not  one  step,  not  one,  will  I  move, 
until  Paul  Breen  has  been  arrested."  • 

"  I  am  your  chief." 

"  Yes,  but  you  sha'n't  commit  hari-kiri  without 
my  staying  your  hand." 

"  Oh,  we  haven't  reached  so  serious  an  alterna 
tive,  have  we,  Adolph?  If  this  matter  remains  a 
secret  between  us,  no  one  will  be  wiser;  and  a 
secret,  you  know,  cements  friendship.  Come,  I 
don't  mind  confessing  that  I  have  a  personal  feel 
ing,  yes,  a  deep  personal  feeling.  I  fear  I  have  been 
too  severe,  too  vindictive,  I  may  say,  with  Paul. 
After  all,  admitting  his  guilt,  he  has  been  punished 
bitterly ;  so  young,  so  inexperienced,  so  habituated 
to  refinement  and  luxury,  shut  up  for  life  in  prison, 
dead  to  his  friends,  dead  to  the  world,  yet  alive  — 
my  God !  alive  —  to  realize  it,  to  feel  it.  Let  him 
have  his  liberty,  I  say.  He  earned  it  by  a  bold  brave 
dash  which  you  can't  help  but  admire.  Let  him 
drop  out  of  sight  and  memory;  there  is  a  higher 
law  than  statute  law,  after  -all;  and  it  is  enacted 
by  the  heart  rather  than  the  brain.  Ignore  the  in- 


352      THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

formation,  then,  and  let  him  go.  You  have  no 
feeling,  of  course.  Your  only  interest,  I  appreciate, 
is  to  strengthen  my  position  before  the  people. 
Well  then,  I  confide  it  to  you,  I  have  a  compunction, 
a  positive  compunction,  against  building  my  political 
success  on  Paul  Breen's  suffering." 

The  Governor's  humble,  almost  entreating  words, 
so  differeftt  from  his  ordinary  style  of  speech,  re 
stored  Adolph's  mental  equilibrium.  Here,  surely, 
was  a  chance  for  personal  advantage.  He  realized 
that  the  inducing  cause  must  be  powerful,  indeed, 
to  work  such  a  change ;  and  he  resolved  by  all  means 
to  learn  what  it  was.  Then,  ah,  then,  he  himself 
would  be  great  by  being  the  master  of  so  great  a 
man;  and  once  the  master,  his  first  edict  would  be 
the  instant  arrest  of  Paul  Breen! 

"  But  that  is  exactly  what  you  have  been  doing 
for  the  last  few  months,"  he  replied  sharply.  "  The 
whole  fabric  of  your  reputation  before  the  public 
rests  upon  your  relentless  pursuit  of  Paul  Breen,  and 
it  rests  there  by  your  own  deliberate  choice.  His 
case  furnished  the  text  for  your  memorable  rhapsody 
on  Justice ;  are  you  now  going  to  eat  your  words  ? 
Are  you  now  going  to  take  the  fatal  step  from  the 
sublime  to  the  ridiculous?  Nonsense,  you  can't 
fool  me.  You  are  evasive,  insincere.  Talk  about 
compunctions?  Why, « you  would  people  hell  for 
your  ambition !  Either  trust  me  with  your  real  rea- 


PAYING.  THE   PENALTY  353 

son  for  such  an  extraordinary  change  of  base  in  the 
very  front  of  the  enemy,  or  choose  as  your  right- 
hand  man  some  one  subservient  enough  to  hold  the 
position  under  conditions  so  contemptible." 

There  was  silence  in  the  half-lighted  room,  al 
ways  shadowy  from  its  sombre  hues  and  deep  re 
cesses,  as  John  Strain  deliberated;  that  silence 
which  fittingly  attends  vital  suspense.  He  was 
making  a  fight,  as  desperate  as  it  was  distasteful, 
for  his  career;  but  already,  in  his  innermost  heart, 
that  untarnished  bit  of  his  true  self  that  had  thrilled 
so  agonizingly  over  the  dying  clergyman's  letter, 
he  knew  what  he  would  do  if  he  failed.  If  Adolph 
took  the  rational,  practical,  passionless  view,  so 
natural  to  one  of  his  worldliness,  why,  then  events 
would  ensue  according  to  the  logic  of  their  prepara 
tion.  He  himself  would  be  nominated,  would  be 
President,  would  deserve  well  of  the  people  because 
he  served  them  well.  Adolph  would  be  his  right- 
hand  man,  with  whatever  honors  he  might  prefer  — 
perhaps  might  become  his  political  heir.  And  Paul 
—  why,  Paul  should  be  removed  secretly  and  surely 
to  Europe,  there,  under  another  name,  to  begin  life 
again  —  a  life  so  filled  with  all  the  luxury,  poetry, 
refinements  and  romances  that  wealth  can  procure, 
that  his  experience  would  be  as  a  forgotten  dream, 
its  vague  recollection  returning  only  to  intensify  and 
give  zest  to  happiness. 


354      THE   CASE   OF   PAJJL   BREEN 

But  if  under  Adolph's  consistent,  almost  judicial 
condemnation  of  Paul  there  had  lurked  malice,  if 
personal  hatred,  hitherto  unsuspected,  was  the  real 
motive  for  that  persistence  in  urging  his  arrest 
which  but  now  he  had  attributed  to  zeal  for  his  own 
cause,  why,  then,  it  would  be  just  as  well  that 
Adolph  should  know  the  truth,  since  he,  himself, 
out  of  justification  would  be  forced  to  proclaim  it 
to  the  world  —  better,  indeed,  that  he  should  know 
it,  unexpectedly,  before  all  others,  since  the  shock 
of  the  revelation  might  reveal  the  nature  of  his  ani 
mus. 

"  You  are  right  in  complaining  of  my  insincer 
ity,"  the  Governor  said  quietly.  "  You  have  had 
my  full  confidence  and  deserved  it;  you  shall  have 
it  now.  I  have  this  night  learned  from  a  certain 
source  that  Paul  is  my  son." 

"  Your  son  ?  My  God,  what  do  you  mean  ?  Your 
son  ? "  exclaimed  Adolph,  rent  by  uncontrollable 
emotions. 

"  My  son,  my  unknown,  my  unsuspected  son," 
John  Strain  repeated;  and  he  showed  the  letter, 
and  told  the  story  of  its  finding. 

Motionless,  speechless,  the  two  men  faced  each 
other,  held  by  the  deeper,  truer  communication  of 
their  eyes.  There  was  silence  in  the  shadowy  room, 
as  utter,  so  it  seemed,  as  their  absorption ;  and  yet 
men  live  and  move  until  they  die  of  old  age,  uncon- 


"'YOUR  SON?     MY  GOD,  WHAT  DO  YOU  MEAN? 


PAYING  THE   PENALTY  355 

scious  that  the  very  air  they  breathe  is  vibrant  with 
the  music  of  the  spheres,  so  intent  are  they  upon 
their  trivial  interests.  Utter  silence,  it  seemed ;  and 
yet  the  alert  to  hear  might  have  caught  a  sound 
from  without  the  partition-wall  or  side-door  —  a 
gasp,  a  sigh,  a  sob,  or  perhaps  nothing  more  than 
one  of  those  inarticulate  moans  that  haunt  houses 
when  they  grow  old  and  are  full  of  pain. 

"  If  Paul  is  your  son,"  Adolph  said  at  length, 
feeling  his  way  and  gaining  confidence  as  each 
proposition  met  with  no  resistance,  "  If  Paul  be 
your  son,  no  one  knows  it,  no  one  can  know  it, 
except  you  and  me.  The  woman  is  dead.  Sander 
son  is  dead,  and  the  fact  that  he  wrote  to  you  died 
with  him.  Well,  then,  let  this  unknown  and  un 
knowable  relationship  be  a  part  of  the  dead  past. 
What  does  it  amount  to,  anyway?  The  accident  of 
a  vulgar  intrigue  —  why,  I  would  snap  my  fingers 
at  a  score  of  them.  Sensible  men  never  waste 
thought  over  the  sighs  and  kisses  of  their  youth, 
any  more  than  they  do  over  the  marbles  and  lolli 
pops  that  preceded  them.  And  you,  of  all  men  — 
John  Strain,  the  rugged,  the  practical,  the  masterful, 
grown  sappy  and  sentimental.  Why,  the  whole 
world  would  laugh  —  laugh  to  scorn,  before  it 
repudiated  and  disdained.  But  if  you  must  throw 
a  sop  to  sensibility,  do  this.  No  one  can  see  you 
except  me,  and  I  won't  look.  We'll  go  out  west 


356     THE   CASE   OF   PAUL  BREEN 

together,  to-morrow,  the  first  thing.  It  will  be  an 
innovation,  but  a  popular  one,  to  have  the  leading 
candidate  on  the  ground,  ready  to  make  good  his 
candidacy  by  presence  and  word.  People  like  to 
have  their  favorites  show  individuality.  Mean 
while,  Naylor,  the  private-agency  man,  in  my  pay, 
as  you  know,  will  inform  the  Carteret  authorities 
of  Paul's  whereabouts,  and  they  will  lose  no  time 
in  arresting  him.  The  Lieutenant-Governor,  in 
your  absence,  will  make  requisition;  and,  before 
you  return  in  triumph,  the  foremost  man  of  the  day 
by  royal  right  of  achievement,  Paul  will  be  back  in 
prison,  as  dead  and  forgotten  as  his  mother  was  to 
you  from  the  day  you  deserted  her.  Why  should 
you  treat  him  better  than  you  treated  her?" 

"  Having  sinned  once,  why  shouldn't  I  sin 
again  ? "  John  Strain  returned,  in  low,  hesitating 
tones. 

"  Yes,  since  you  are  a  man  among  men,  and  not 
a  saint  among  saints.  Yes,  since  the  millennium  still 
justifies  its  name  by  keeping  a  thousand  years  away. 
You  will  search  history  in  vain  for  an  instance 
where  a  great  man  allowed  his  career  to  be  impeded 
by  a  wretched  bastard,  a  condemned  criminal,  a 
cowardly  sororicide  —  " 

"  Look  here,  Breen,"  the  Governor  broke  in  sud 
denly  :  "  You  accused  me  of  insincerity,  just  now, 
and  I  made  amends  by  a  frankness  somewhat  rash, 


PAYING  THE   PENALTY  357 

I  fear.  But  it  strikes  me  that  confidence  is  a  recip 
rocal  relation.  What,  then,  is  your  animus  against 
Paul?  What  causes  you  to  rejoice  in  his  misfor 
tunes,  to  glory  in  his  vilification?  Of  course,  you 
are  devoted  to  me  in  a  way,  I  admit  that;  but  you 
are  too  guarded,  too  self-contained,  too  selfish,  I 
may  even  say,  to  yield  to  such  emotions,  unless  pas 
sions,  purely  personal,  are  too  much  for  you.  You'll 
have  to  be  candid,  I  tell  you  frankly,  if  you  expect 
me  to  follow  your  advice.  I  may  be  sappy  and 
sentimental;  but  I'll  be  a  stalking-horse  for  no 
man's  secret  desires,  mark  that." 

Adolph  laughed,  but  the  light  of  his  laughter  left 
his  eyes,  its  flippancy  left  his  tones,  as  he  proceeded. 
"  You  are  right,  Governor,"  he  admitted,  "  I  am 
selfish,  and  I  have  good  and  sufficient  reasons  for 
putting  Paul  out  of  all  reckoning.  We  never  liked 
each  other  even  as  boys ;  he  assumed  a  superiority 
of  motives  which  was  very  irritating.  What  is  there 
unnatural  about  that?  You  have  explained  that 
there  is  no  real  relationship  between  us.  Well,  I 
was  fond  of  my  little  cousin  Edith  in  a  way;  and 
if  he  hated  her  so  virulently  as  to  kill  her,  why 
shouldn't  I  hate  him  to  the  extent  of  wishing  him 
punished  for  it?  Of  course,  I  profit  by  his  con 
demnation,  I  don't  deny  that.  There  is  my  uncle's 
fortune,  which  would  have  been  his;  now  it  be 
comes  mine  since  my  father  is  dead.  But  isn't  that 


358      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

proper  and  right?  Would  you  have  Paul  inherit 
through  his  own  murderous  wrong?  Do  you  think 
your  by-blow  has  any  equitable  title  to  the  property 
in  any  event  ?  Damn  him !  —  of  course  I  want  him 
to  rot  in  prison !  Why  shouldn't  I  ?  " 

"  And  there  is  Constance  Sanderson?  "  suggested 
Strain  persuasively. 

"  Yes,  there  is  Constance  Sanderson,"  repeated 
Adolph,  springing  from  his  chair  and  pacing  the 
floor  restlessly,  "  a  girl  who  would  care  for  me,  love 
me,  give  herself  to  me  with  joy,  by  the  Lord,  were 
it  not  for  the  infernal,  namby-pamby  sentimentality 
with  which  he  has  bewitched  her.  Do  you  think  I 
don't  know?  Do  you  think  I  forget  or  forgive? 
Why,  what  would  be  the  result  of  your  precious 
idea  of  letting  him  alone,  letting  him  drop  out  of 
sight,  as  you  say  ?  He  wouldn't  drop  worth  a  damn. 
He  is  already  in  communication  with  her ;  and  they, 
this  girl,  that  old  snivel  of  a  Twigg,  and  some  be 
nevolent  collegiate  ass  named  Tancredi  —  oh,  I  am 
on  to  them  all  —  are  conspiring  to  prove  him  in 
nocent.  Let  him  once  be  free  to  direct  them,  and 
they  will  restore  him  to  life,  liberty,  reputation,  for 
tune,  love  —  depriving  me  of  all  I  have,  and  all  I 
hope  for ;  perhaps  contriving  that  I  shall  be  blamed 
for  his  conviction  —  Oh,  you  ask  me  why  ?  There 
are  a  thousand  whys,  man;  and  the  first  and  fore 
most  one  is  more  than  sufficient :  —  I  abhor  him !  " 


PAYING  THE   PENALTY          359 

Adolph  uttered  these  last  words,  standing  over 
against  the  Governor,  his  arms  extended,  his  body 
quivering  with  passion.  There  was  a  strange  ex 
pression  on  the  other's  face,  quiet,  amused,  yet  re 
sourceful,  which  at  once  restrained  and  disconcerted 
him.  Had  he  made  a  mistake?  Had  this  man, 
whose  strength  he  should  have  feared,  even  while 
thinking  him  weak,  led  him  on  to  his  own  undoing  ? 
At  least  it  was  now  too  late  to  retreat;  naught  re 
mained  but  to  play  the  game  to  the  finish.  He  re 
sumed  his  seat,  gathering  together  nerve  and  muscle 
into  his  normal  poise,  and  continued  in  the  even, 
yet  incisive  way,  which  became  him  so  well. 

"  Now,  look  here,  John  Strain,"  he  said,  leaning 
forward  with  argumentative  forefinger,  "  at  length 
we  understand  each  other.  We  have  a  mutual  in 
terest  in  the  capture  and  incarceration  of  this  escaped 
convict,  a  mutual  interest,  so  strong,  so  vital,  that  I 
do  not  propose  to  risk  the  possibility  of  its  being 
jeopardized  by  one  so  irrational  as  to  take  the 
doubts  and  hesitations  of  mental  and  nervous  ex 
haustion  for  the  qualms  of  conscience.  As  soon  as 
I  leave  here,  this  very  night,  I  shall  telegraph  the 
Chief  of  Police  of  Carteret,  informing  him  where 
Paul  is  concealed.  I  will  help  you  in  spite  of  your 
present  sickly  self,  and,  as  soon  as  you  are  really 
yourself  again,  you  will  thank  me." 

"You   will,    will   you?"    returned   John    Strain, 


360     THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

pushing  back  his  chair,  and  rising  to  his  full  height. 
"  Well,  go  ahead,  perhaps  it  is  just  as  well.  Execu 
tive  clemency  cannot  be  extended  to  a  fugitive  from 
justice  until  he  is  in  custody;  and,  as  God  lives, 
I'll  pardon  Paul  as  soon  as  I  hear  that  he  has  been 
arrested." 

"  You  don't  dare !  "  cried  Adolph,  confronting 
him  with  clinched  fist. 

"  Who  ever  said  '  dare  '  to  John  Strain  ?  My 
ambition  did  tempt  me,  I  admit  with  shame ;  but  not 
you,  Adolph  Breen,  not  you." 

"  If  you  do,"  Adolph  threatened,  "  I'll  publish 
this  story  to  the  world." 

"  All  right ;  it  will  save  me  the  trouble  of  doing 
so." 

"  You  will  lose  the  Presidency  —  " 

There  was  a  low  fire  burning  on  the  deep,  old- 
fashioned  hearth,  mainly  in  accord  with  a  fancy  of 
the  Governor  for  its  soothing  cheer,  though  the 
night  air  was  so  chill  as  to  make  its  warmth  agree 
able.  He  snatched  a  heavy  file  of  papers  from  his 
desk,  the  telegrams,  letters,  pledges,  and  memoranda, 
which  in  themselves  constituted  and  contained  the 
orderly  plan  of  his  campaign,  outlining  and  making 
feasible  successive  steps  of  action,  and  rent  it  into 
tatters  in  his  great,  strong  hands.  "  That  for  the 
Presidency !  "  he  said,  as  he  strewed  the  coals  with 
the  fragments. 


PAYING  THE  PENALTY          361 

"  You  will  be  impeached  for  malfeasance  as 
Governor  —  ' 

"  My  term  will  expire  before  the  Legislature 
meets;  but  they  can  try  it  on  if  they  like.  I  may 
have  some  interesting  facts  to  divulge  by  that 

time."  % 

*p 
"  Anyway,  your  career  is  rumed  —  " 

"Damn  my  career!  I'll  still JtA the  best  lawyer 
in  the  United  States ;  and,  if  I  lacVior  any  business, 
the  vindication  of  my  son,  and  thfe  recovery  of  his 
inheritance,  will  make  a  pretty  case  or  two." 

"  Oh,  I  could  kill  you  —  Adolph  muttered 
through  his  teeth. 

"  Not  could,  but  would,  you  mean,"  corrected 
John  Strain,  looking  down,  with  contempt,  from 
his  stalwartness. 

"  Then  it  is  to  be  war  to  the  knife,"  snarled 
Adolph,  his  hand  on  the  door-knob. 

"  Likely  enough  on  your  side,"  agreed  the  Gov 
ernor  ;  "  but  I  fight  openly." 

John  Strain  sat  in  his  great  arm-chair  before  the 
glowing  hearth,  on  which  still  fluttered  and  crackled 
the  ashes  of  his  darling  hopes.  The  shadows  of  the 
room  lightened  and  darkened  about  him,  like 
friends  through  good  and  evil  report.  The  silence 
harmonized  with  his  mood,  it  was  so  sombre  and 
intense;  and  yet,  so  tranquil.  He  was  glad  that  he 


362     THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

had  decided;  glad  that  he  had  made  manifest  the 
road  along  which  he  must  march.  Always  impa- 
.tient  of  self-analysis,  and  prone  to  seek  motives  in 
deeds  rather  than  deeds  from  motives,  he  yielded 
not  to  vain  regrets  nor  bent  under  the  burden  of 
remorse.  He  did  wince,  it  is  true,  when  some  of 
the  fine  phrases  he  had  fashioned  in  praise  of 
"  Justice  "  recurred  to  him ;  yet,  with  the  shame, 
was  the  stern  resolution  that  they  should  be  made 
real.  It  was  this  thought,  rather  than  any  tender 
ness  for  Paul,  that  inspired  him  —  that  he  owed  a 
penalty  and  must  pay  it;  that,  as  he  had  despoiled, 
so  he  must  restore.  And  so  simple  and  sure  was 
the  conviction,  that  he  had  been  conscious  of  no 
mental  action  in  formulating  and  accepting  it. 

Even  his  iron  nature  felt  the  fatigues  of  the  day; 
and  a  dreaminess,  which  was  rest  rather  than  sleep, 
hovered  over  him.  Once  and  again  he  saw  Mary 
Lane,  not  the  retreating  figure  of  distress,  so  pa 
thetic,  so  awful,  in  its  mute  accusation ;  but  as  she 
had  looked  on  him  when  she  said :  "  I  love  you, 
John."  Then  a  sound,  faint,  uncertain,  called  him 
back  to  the  reality  of  the  present.  It  was  a  gasp,  a 
sigh,  or  a  sob,  as  if  some  one  hesitated  without. 

John  Strain  rose  from  his  chair  and  opened  the 
side-door.  There  stood  Abigail  Alice,  the  woman 
whom  he  had  taken  as  wedded  wife,  in  the  sight 
of  God  and  man,  so  many  years  before ! 


CHAPTER    XXV 

FACING   THE    MUSIC 

"  WELL,  you  listened,  you  heard  ?  "  John  Strain 
asked,  as  he  saw  his  wife,  her  face  white  and  drawn, 
leaning  against  the  casing  of  the  door. 

"  Yes,  I  listened,  I  heard  all." 

"  Come  in,  then."  And,  closing  the  door,  he  led 
her  not  unkindly  to  a  chair. 

"  Let  me  see  that  letter ;  it  is  my  right,"  at  length 
she  said,  brokenly;  and,  without  a  word,  he  handed 
it  to  her. 

With  wavering  hands,  she  took  her  glasses  from 
her  reticule.  With  trembling  fingers  she  adjusted 
them,  slowly,  not  without  difficulty.  She  leaned 
forward  under  the  light  and  read  the  pages,  closely, 
quaintly  written,  once  and  again.  Her  poor,  flat 
bosom  heaved  as  pitifully  as  a  child's;  and,  as  she 
removed  the  glasses  and  laid  the  paper  in  her  lap, 
tears  fell  upon  it,  sealing  it  with  anguish.  "  What 
am  I?"  she  moaned.  "Oh,  what  am  I?" 

"  You  are  my  wife,  my  undoubted,  my  honored 
wife !  "  asserted  John  Strain. 

363 


364      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

"But  this  letter  says  there  was  a  ceremony,  only 
a  few  months  before,  only  a  few  months  before  our 
wedding,  John." 

"  It  was  a  mockery,  a  jest,  of  no  legal  binding, 
forgotten,  unknown.  The  only  witness  is  dead; 
Mary  Lane  and  this  clergyman  both  are  dead.  I, 
alone  of  all  the  living,  know  whether  or  not  there 
was  even  a  trace  of  validity  to  it;  and  I  swear,  I 
swear  to  God,  that  there  was  no  marriage,  no 
thought  of  marriage,  except  my  marriage  to  you. 
I  would  stand  torture ;  I  would  rot  in  my  grave  and 
feel  and  endure  every  instant  of  its  decay,  I  would 
burn  everlastingly,  before  I  would  ever  admit  the 
possibility  of  anything  else,  or  cease  to  declare,  to 
maintain,  that  I  am  your  husband,  and  you  are  my 
wife  —  " 

"  John,  John  —  " 

"  And  more,  much  more !  I  humble  myself, 
Abigail,  before  you,  as  I  have  never  humbled  myself 
before  God  or  man.  Forgive  me,  I  wronged  you, 
moved  and  instigated  by  that  devil  which  is  the 
fierce  desire  of  man  for  his  own  advancement.  I 
knew  what  I  was  doing,  and  I  did  it  deliberately, 
just  as  I  have  known  and  done  the  other  important 
things  of  my  life,  because  I  chose  to  do  it,  because 
to  do  it  seemed  well  for  me,  for  me.  Now,  I'm 
reaping  the  legitimate  crop  of  selfishness,  of  ruth- 
lessness.  So  be  it ;  I  don't  complain  —  it  is  just. 


FACING  THE  MUSIC  365 

But  you  sha'n't  be  tainted  by  my  sin ;  your  fair  name 
shall  be  kept  as  free  from  scandal  as  you  yourself 
have  ever  been.  I  am  your  husband,  and  I'll  stand 
by  you,  I'll  protect  you;  by  the  living  God,  I  will!  " 
A  flush  crept  over  Abigail  Alice's  withered  face 

—  the   first,    faint  dawning  of  proud   gratification 
amid  the  blank  opacity  of  despair.    "  But,  Adolph  ?  " 
she  hesitated.     "  He  will  do  what  he  threatened.     I 
know  him  —  he   is  half-mad   with   love  and  hate, 
both  unsatisfied.    He  will  certainly  proclaim  far  and 
wide  that  Paul  is  your  son  if  you  pardon  him.    And 
then,  and  then  —  " 

"  And  then,  I'll  proclaim  just  as  widely  that  that 
is  the  absolute  truth.  Why,  I  have  no  other  excuse, 
not  to  say  reason,  for  my  action.  But  you  heard 
what  Adolph  called  him,  you  know  what  he 
believes  —  " 

"  He  believes  that  Paul  is  illegitimate?" 
"  Yes,  and  you  may  rest  assured  that  he  will  put 
the  full  stigma  on  him.  Very  well ;  then  Paul  must 
stand  it  as  his  share  in  his  father's  misdeeds.  I  am 
going  to  sacrifice,  to  ruin  my  career,  my  future  for 
him.  I  am  going  to  provide  for  his  comfort,  and, 
if  possible,  vindicate  his  character.  There  I  stop. 
In  the  eyes  of  the  law,  the  duty  of  father  to  son  is 
relative;  that  of  husband  to  wife  is  absolute.  See 

—  I  burn  this  letter ;  the  only  record  of  his  mother's 
story,    her    foolish,     hysterical    story,     remember. 


366     THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

Nothing  remains  of  it  now  except  the  whisk  of  a 
black  ash  up  the  chimney.  So  let  your  fears  wither 
and  fly  away,  Abigail." 

"  You  mean  it?  —  you  mean  all  you  say?  " 

"  As  I  live  and  breathe." 

The  flush,  no  longer  struggling,  but  radiant, 
triumphant,  transformed  the  woman's  wan  and 
peevish  face  into  positive  beauty. 

"  Then  I,  too,  will  make  up,  I,  too,  will  atone," 
she  cried.  "  Oh,  I  know,  I  realize,  what  a  trial  I 
have  been  for  years  to  you ;  a  half-sick,  nerve-racked 
creature,  tormented  with  jealousy.  Why,  even  your 
success  has  been  an  agony  to  me ;  for  it  seemed  that 
you  kept  advancing,  while  I  remained  stationary; 
and  thus  you  were  going  further  and  further  from 
me.  But  I've  always  been  so  proud,  so  proud  of 
you,  John.  Proud  to  think  that  you  had  chosen  me 
when  other  girls,  so  much  prettier,  so  much  brighter, 
were  fairly  wild  over  you.  Proud  to  have  people 
notice  me,  and  make  much  of  me,  because  I  was  the 
wife  of  so  great  a  man.  As  I  stood  at  that  door 
and  listened  to-night  (it's  a  poor  wife  that  listens, 
John,  but  I  did  it,  I've  always  done  it)  it  seemed 
that  I  should  die,  and  I  hoped,  I  prayed,  I  might. 
I  thought,  I  feared  that  you  would  take  advantage 
of  the  exposure  and  repudiate  me ;  I  saw  how  happy, 
how  blest  I  had  been  in  at  least  being  near  you.  My 
husband,  my  man,  you'll  not  regret  your  good  faith 


FACING  THE  MUSIC  367 

to  me.  You  have  given  me  my  life,  I'll  keep  it  and 
hold  it,  for  you,  for  you.  Oh,  of  course,  I  under 
stand  that  I  can't  amount  to  much;  a  beldam  shiv 
ering  in  the  chimney-corner,  while  you  are  out 
fighting  the  world.  But  I'll  watch  there,  not  glower 
there,  my  dear." 

"  Thank  you  for  your  renewed  confidence,  Abi 
gail,"  said  John  Strain,  after  a  pause,  resuming 
that  stiff  benignity  which  became  him  as  did  his 
long  black  coat ;  "  I  must  confess  that  I  was  some 
what  concerned  as  to  what  might  be  your  attitude 
during  the  storm  of  censure  which  will  surely  beat 
about  me.  Not  only  will  my  political  friends  and 
followers  berate  me  for  having  jeopardized  the 
success  of  the  party,  but  I  shall  be  universally  con 
demned,  even  if  I  escape  formal  impeachment,  for 
having  pardoned  Paul  without  a  sufficient  legal 
reason.  The  women  will  no  longer  envy  you  your 
position  —  the  wife  of  a  discredited  man,  forcing  a 
desperate  fight  to  prove  the  innocence  of  a  murderer 
fairly  tried,  whom  he  has  unfairly  favored.  Then 
there  is  Adolph  —  he  has  always  been  close  to  you ; 
he  may  try  —  " 

"  Let  him,"  rejoined  Abigail  with  some  of  her 
former  briskness.  "  I  know  a  thing  or  two  about 
Master  Adolph  already ;  I  may  learn  a  thing  or  two 
more.  Do  you  know,  John,  now  that  I  understand, 
I  don't  hate  Paul  any  longer  ?  It  was  an  instinctive 


368     THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

feeling  I  had  that  there  was  some  bond  between  you 
I  didn't  share  —  something  cattish,  yes,  that  is  the 
word,  that  made  me  spit  and  claw.  Now,  I  am 
sorry  for  him,  and  I'm  willing  to  believe  he's  inno 
cent.  Perhaps  I  may  help  you  to  prove  him  so 
when  the  time  comes." 

"  When  the  time  comes,  you  shall  help,  never 
fear,  but  now  I  want  you  to  go  to  rest,  for  all  this 
has  been  very  hard  for  you.  I  must  think  about 
this  very  matter  of  Paul's  rehabilitation;  must  fore 
cast  the  succession  of  impending  troubles,  so  that, 
whatever  people  say  of  me,  they  shall  at  least  admit 
that  I  continue  true  to  my  reputation  of  being  a 
resolute,  strong,  far-sighted  man." 

John  Strain  led  his  wife  to  the  door  with  formal 
courtesy,  then,  to  their  mutual  surprise,  he  bent  low 
and  kissed  her.  Having  thus  sealed  his  contrition, 
he  sat  before  the  dying  embers  on  the  hearth  until 
their  spark  was  swallowed  up  in  the  clear  morning 
light.  As  years  before,  in  the  crude  beginnings  of 
his  career,  so  now,  in  its  inglorious  conclusion,  he 
still  saw  the  path,  opening  before  him,  on  which  he 
should  march  to  achievement.  And  when,  at  length, 
with  the  chart  clearly  defined  in  his  mind,  he  started 
for  his  room  to  refresh  and  array  himself  for  the 
ordeal  of  the  day,  there  was  the  joy  of  strife,  there 
was  the  joy  of  power,  in  his  undaunted  heart.  As 
he  opened  the  door,  his  wife  lay  on  the  sill,  sleeping 


FACING  THE  MUSIC  369 

peacefully  in  the  delight  of  at  least  being  near 
him. 

Again  John  Strain  passed  down  the  familiar 
street  on  his  way  to  the  Capital ;  but  now  he  strode 
stern-faced,  looking  neither  to  right  nor  left,  un 
heeding  the  greetings  of  neighbors,  eager  to  con 
gratulate  him  on  the  success  of  his  speech  of  the 
night  before,  and  on  the  greater  success  which  so 
surely  was  coming  to  him.  A  crowd  awaited  at  the 
station  —  men  of  his  party,  anxious  for  a  hand 
shake  and  a  word  with  their  candidate,  incited  by 
pride  and  self-interest  to  share  in  some  small  degree 
in  his  glory.  But  he  waved  them  off,  compelling  a 
path  through  their  midst  by  his  determined  and 
repellent  mien. 

For  a  while,  the  hush  of  astonishment  and  dismay 
prevailed;  but,  as  the  train  moved  out,  there  was  a 
murmur  instead  of  a  cheer  —  the  murmur  of  the 
mob,  intolerant  of  what  it  does  not  understand,  as 
quick  to  resent  and  to  hate  as  it  has  been  to  flatter 
and  follow.  And  John  Strain  smiled  grimly  as  he 
took  his  seat  apart,  still  wrapped  in  self-enforced 
exclusiveness,  for  he  realized  that,  if  there  were  one 
thing  more  fleeting  than  the  breath  of  life,  it  was 
the  popularity  which  made  that  breath  precious  to 
men. 

He  was  weary  of  words,  and  disgusted  with  their 
ineffectiveness.  He  was  yearning  for  the  decisive- 


370     THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

ness  of  action;  and,  though  he  chafed  at  each 
moment  as  a  delay,  he  did  not  have  to  wait 
long. 

He  was  hardly  seated  at  his  desk  in  the  Executive 
chamber  before  his  secretary  came  hurrying,  all 
excitement  and  exultation,  with  two  telegrams  in 
his  hand. 

"  Paul  Breen  is  caught,"  he  cried.  "  Here  is  a 
dispatch  from  Naylor,  the  private  agency  man,  and 
one  from  the  Chief  of  Police  of  Carteret  in  confir 
mation.  Nothing  could  be  better,  just  at  this  time. 
Why,  sir  —  " 

John  Strain  swung  around  in  his  chair.  "  That 
will  do,  Edwards,"  he  said  sharply.  "  I  have  my 
own  opinion  of  its  timeliness,  and  your  reflections 
would  not  change  it.  Just  send  in  the  pardon  clerk 
to  me,  and  tell  Joe  and  Jake,  the  State  detectives,  to 
wait  without.  That  will  do." 

The  private  secretary  went  out,  the  pardon  clerk 
came  in,  with  a  jump;  for  the  very  air  was  vibrant 
with  the  alarming  intelligence  that  "  the  old  man  had 
the  bit  between  his  teeth  for  sure." 

"  Draft  a  full  and  unconditional  pardon  for  Paul 
Breen  and  bring  it  to  me  at  once,"  was  the  Gov 
ernor's  brief  command. 

"  Sir,  sir  —  "  stammered  the  bewildered  clerk. 

"  Draft  a  pardon  for  Paul  Breen  and  bring  it  to 
me  to  sign  with  a  rush,"  repeated  the  Governor 


FACING  THE   MUSIC  371 

blandly.  "  You  really  should  do  something,  Mar- 
koe,  for  that  incipient  deafness  of  yours;  it  might 
cause  a  man  less  patient  than  myself  to  dispense 
with  your  valuable  services." 

With  a  rapidity  which  was  really  a  triumph  of 
penmanship  the  pardon  lay  letter-perfect  on  the 
Governor's  desk.  "  Send  Joe  and  Jake  in  here,"  he 
said,  as  he  affixed  his  clear,  angular  signature  to  the 
broad  parchment. 

The  two  State  detectives  entered  and  awaited 
instructions,  respectful,  but  disconsolate.  "  Oh,  I 
understand  what's  the  trouble  with  you,"  said  the 
Governor ;  "  but  don't  give  up  all  hope  of  at  least  a 
share  in  the  reward.  That's  all  you're  entitled  to, 
for  it's  plain  enough  to  me  that  this  private-agency 
man  and  you  must  have  worked  together  in  some 
way.  Besides,  the  Carteret  people  will  have  to  have 
a  piece  of  it,  I  suppose.  But  put  in  your  claim,  and 
I'll  see  that  you  don't  suffer  because  I  held  you  off 
last  night.  Meanwhile,  take  this  pardon,  show  it  to 
the  Carteret  authorities,  get  the  necessary  order,  and 
have  Paul  Breen  released  forthwith  from  custody. 
Where  are  they  holding  him  ?  Up  in  the  mountains, 
hey,  until  they  hear  from  me?  That's  good;  just 
tell  him  to  remain  there  quietly  until  his  friends  can 
communicate  with  him.  Now,  prove,  will  you,  by 
promptness  and  efficiency  in  this  matter,  that  you 
can  be  of  some  appreciable  use  ?  " 


372      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

After  the  men  had  hastened  away,  fired  by  un 
wonted  zeal,  the  Governor  sat  apart  and  alone,  in 
his  nimbus  of  remoteness,  not  heeding  the  awed 
whispers,  the  frightened  glances  of  the  clerks,  as 
they  tip-toed  to  and  fro  as  if  participating  in 
funereal  preparations.  Again  he  was  impatient  for 
the  making  of  inexorable  events.  The  extraordinary 
news  must  have  radiated  out  from  the  Capital  over 
the  entire  country  by  this  time,  by  word  of  mouth, 
by  telephone,  by  telegraph.  But  why  didn't  Adolph 
Breen  act  as  he  had  threatened?  Then,  only  then, 
could  he  send  for  the  authorized  representative  of 
the  press,  and  make  the  statement,  so  clearly  defined 
in  his  mind,  which  should  set  him  right,  if  not  with 
the  people,  at  least  with  his  own  conscience,  and  be 
his  last  word,  of  all  the  distasteful  words,  in  the 
matter.  Surely  Adolph  had  not  repented  of  his 
purpose.  Ah,  no ;  far  more  probably  he  was  delay 
ing  to  torment  him ;  yes,  that  would  be  like  Adolph. 

The  door  of  the  private  office  opened  unbidden, 
and  then  slammed  like  a  challenge,  as  three  men 
entered.  They  were  the  Hon.  R.  L.  Armington, 
Chairman  of  the  National  Committee,  as  justly 
renowned  for  his  skill  as  a  lawyer  as  he  was  for  his 
cunning  as  a  politician;  Mr.  Rufus  Rhodes,  editor 
and  proprietor  of  the  "  Metropolitan  Ray,"  the  party 
organ  which  spoke  as  one  having  authority,  and 
Adolph  Breen. 


FACING  THE  MUSIC  373 

John  Strain  rose  to  meet  them,  pale,  cool  and 
grim.  He  realized  that  Adolph  was  keeping  his 
word,  but  after  his  own  insidious,  indirect  fashion, 
forcing  the  full  burden  of  explanation  upon  him, 
not  through  an  orderly  and  dignified  statement  to 
the  people,  but  as  a  part  of  an  acrimonious  dispute 
with  those  who  had  been  his  closest  associates  in 
politics  and  who  naturally  would  be  most  incensed 
by  his  conduct.  Very  well;  he  would  assume,  he 
would  accept  it.  Anything,  everything,  would  be 
better  than  cursed  uncertainty.  He  shook  his  head, 
slowly,  defiantly,  like  an  old  bull,  as  he  said : 
"  Well,  gentlemen,  to  what  am  I  indebted  for  the 
honor  of  your  coming?  " 

"  If  there's  any  honor  in  this  room,  it  came  in 
with  us,  that's  sure,"  snapped  Mr.  Rufus  Rhodes. 

"  We  want  to  know  what  you  mean  by  bedevilling 
the  party  that  made  you,  at  the  eleventh  hour?" 
demanded  Mr.  Carrington.  "  Not  that  it  can  make 
any  difference  what  you  say ;  your  goose  was  cooked 
too  thoroughly  for  retrieval  when  you  signed  that 
corrupt,  that  idiotic  pardon.  I've  been  long- 
distancing  to  all  the  members  of  the  Committee  since 
I  heard  the  news;  and  they  all  agreed  that  your 
name  won't  be,  mentioned  in  the  Convention,  not 
mentioned,  by  the  Lord  Harry,  any  more  than 
Benedict  Arnold's.  But  Adolph  here  gives  such  an 
astonishing  reason  for  your  treachery  that  we  felt 


374      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

it  fair  to  give  you  the  chance  to  confirm  or  deny 
it  —  " 

"  Mr.  Adolph  Breen  is  right  in  what  he  has  told 
you,"  said  the  Governor  quietly.  "  Paul  Breen  is 
my  son." 

"  Your  paternity  hasn't  troubled  you  much  for 
the  last  twenty-five  years,"  sneered  Mr.  Rufus 
Rhodes ;  "  why  didn't  you  keep  mum  for  a  little 
while  longer,  and  give  us  a  show?  It  was  all  a 
plant,  I  believe,  a  damned,  disgraceful,  larcenous 
plant!" 

"  I  didn't  know  until  last  night,"  John  Strain 
explained  in  the  same  dull,  even  tones.  "  I  couldn't 
endure  that  my  only  son  should  be  returned  to  the 
prison  where  my  neglect,  my  severity,  may  have 
sent  him  in  the  first  place." 

"  A  miserable  bastard,"  broke  in  Adolph  Breen ; 
"  you  see,  gentlemen,  how  justified  I  am  in  my  con 
sistent,  my  conscientious  abhorrence  of  the  wretch 
who  murdered  my  little  cousin.  I  felt,  I  knew,  that 
there  could  be  no  blood  ties  between  us." 

'  You  have  violated  your  oath  as  Governor,"  con 
tinued  Carrington,  "  and  you  may  rest  assured  that 
the  Legislature  will  take  cognizance  of  it.  Your 
feelings  as  a  father;  paf!  What  concern  has  the 
State  with  your  feelings?  You  might  just  as  well 
put  your  fingers  in  the  public  treasury,  and  then 
justify  yourself  by  saying  you  felt  hungry." 


FACING  THE   MUSIC  375 

"  Let  me  add  right  here,  out  of  justice  to 
Paul,"  said  John  Strain  with  judicial  com 
posure,  "  that  I  am  morally  assured  of  his  inno 
cence  —  " 

"  Don't  you  see,  gentlemen,"  interrupted  Adolph 
in  a  tremble  of  rage,  "  don't  you  see  that  what  I 
told  you  is  true?  He  is  already  conspiring  to  take 
my  lawful  inheritance  from  me  and  give  it  to 
that  side-blow  of  his.  First  the  pardon,  then  a 
trumped-up  vindication,  then  a  suit  to  recover  the 
estate  of  my  honored  uncle,  Neil  Breen,  which  is 
mine,  by  God,  which  he  never  intended,  however 
crudely  drawn  his  will,  should  go  to  his  wife's  living 
shame  —  " 

"  Calm  yourself,  Breen,"  Mr.  Carrington  advised. 
"  If  such  a  dastardly  attempt  is  ever  made,  you'll 
find  me  at  your  side  with  all  the  poor  legal  ability 
I  may  possess  —  " 

"  Yes,  and  you  can  trust  the  *  Metropolitan  Ray  ' 
to  keep  the  people  straight  on  the  facts,"  Mr.  Rufus 
Rhodes  added. 

John  Strain  resumed  his  seat,  and  touched  a 
button  on  his  desk.  "  Thomas,"  he  said  to  the 
responding  messenger,  "  just  show  these  men  out, 
and  never  let  them  in  again ;  "  and,  a  moment  later, 
he  was  plodding  through  the  stacks  of  official  corre 
spondence  before  him  with  the  apathetic  regularity 
and  certainty  of  a  machine. 


376     THE   CASE  OF  PAUL   BREEN 

It  was  late,  that  afternoon,  when  John  Strain  left 
the  Executive  chambers.  The  clerks,  lingering  in 
the  deep  casements  of  the  windows  of  the  outer 
office,  were  so  engrossed  in  conversation  that  they 
evidently  did  not  perceive  his  departure.  The  cor 
ridors  of  the  Capitol  were  strangely  empty;  for, 
during  the  last  week,  they  had  been  thronged  with 
sight-seers  waiting  for  a  glimpse  of  him.  In  his 
deliberate  walk  down  the  hill  to  the  station,  he  was 
approached  by  no  one,  though,  ordinarily,  a  peti 
tioner  for  favor  had  lurked  at  every  tree  and  corner. 
Now,  those  of  his  party  whom  he  passed  failed  to 
recognize  him,  while  men  of  the  opposite  faith  gave 
him  an  amused,  almost  contemptuous  nod.  The 
newsboys  danced  around  him,  offering  their  wares 
most  inopportunely,  for  their  blazing  headlines  were 
neither  flattering  nor  polite.  Similarly,  too,  the 
bulletin-boards  bristled  with  such  injurious  accusa 
tions  that  the  crowds  about  them  stared  after  him 
in  dull  amazement  that  any  man  so  placarded  could 
be  so  unmoved.  But  slight  and  insult  fell  off  from 
John  Strain's  stubborn  personality  like  bird-shot 
from  the  sides  of  an  armor-clad.  They  were  a.  part 
of  the  penalty  he  had  undertaken  to  pay  —  a  penalty 
he  thoroughly  understood  before  so  undertaking. 
Why,  then,  should  he  concern  himself  because 
things  were  happening  as  he  himself,  of  his  own 
good  judgment,  had  caused  them  to  happen?  A 


FACING  THE   MUSIC  377 

sensation,  however  annoying,  might  last  for  ten 
days,  while  deeds,  deeds,  they  lived  forever. 

When  the  local  train  reached  the  outskirts  of 
Hamlin,  the  conductor  came  with  kindly  suggestion. 
"  You'd  better  let  me  pull  up  for  you  at  Davenant 
Street  crossing,  Governor,"  he  whispered ;  "  that's 
only  a  stone-throw  from  your  house.  The  boys  were 
a  little  noisy  and  excited  around  the  station,  when  I 
came  by,  an  hour  ago,  disappointed  naturally,  you 
know,  and  they  might  —  " 

But  John  Strain  waved  him  aside.  "  Nonsense," 
he  said,  "  there  is  nothing  so  bad  that  it  won't  be 
come  worse  if  you  fear  to  face  it." 

As  he  alighted  from  the  train  at  Hamlin,  the 
station-master,  also,  tried  to  detain  him;  but  the 
Governor  pushed  on,  with  a  smile.  Outside,  along 
the  building,  filling  the  street,  was  the  mob,  more 
turbulent,  growling  now  where  it  had  murmured  in 
the  morning.  Again,  through  his  forceful  stead 
fastness,  he  passed  into  the  midst  of  them,  though 
now  on  every  side  was  a  swelling  sea  of  cruel  faces, 
of  threatening  arms,  of  rude  weapons,  brandished, 
ready  to  be  cast.  Already,  one  of  the  outstretched 
hands  had  clutched;  already,  one  of  the  flying 
missiles  had  struck;  when  the  mass  ahead  of  him 
again  parted,  wider  than  before,  and  his  wife,  with 
out  hat  or  cloak,  in  the  dingy  old  house-dress  she 
had  affected  for  years,  darted  to  her  husband's  side. 


378     THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 
% 

The   mob   laughed,   and   cheered,   and  then   slunk 

away  shamedly. 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  proud  of  you,"  she  murmured,  as 
she  patted  the  strong,  firm  arm  to  which  she  clung. 


CHAPTER    XXVI 

THE    PARDON 

THE  following  Sunday  morning,  the  Governor 
sent  bright  and  early  for  Phineas  Twigg,  and  asked 
him  what  it  was  best  to  do  with  Paul.  At  the  lat- 
ter's  suggestion,  he  telegraphed  for  Tancredi,  who 
came  within  the  hour. 

While  they  were  waiting,  the  old  court  Crier 
detailed,  with  minute  particularity,  the  newly- 
discovered  evidence  to  which  he  had  referred  on  the 
night  of  the  reception.  But  John  Strain  pursed  his 
lip  and  shook  his  head  as  he  finished. 

"  It  all  adds  to  our  moral  certainty,"  he  said, 
"  but  there  is  still  a  woeful  failure  of  proof  of  inno 
cence.  However,  the  note-book  suggests  two  lines 
for  research  along  which  we  must  press.  One  is  to 
find  out  what  experiment  Paul  was  trying  at  the 
time  this  alleged  accident  to  him  occurred;  the 
other  is  to  find  out  how  and  when  this  note-book  left 
his  possession.  The  first  bit  of  information  Paul 
himself  ought  to  be  able  to  supply  through  study  of 
his  notes ;  but,  in  order  to  learn  the  second,  we  must 
find  the  tramp  who  pawned  the  book." 

379 


380      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

Tancredi,  however,  on  arriving,  vetoed  sternly 
the  idea  of  Paul's  cooperation.  "  Just  as  I  was 
getting  my  patient's  mind,"  he  declared,  "  in  that 
state  of  tranquillity  which  precedes  healthful  action, 
it  has  been  disarranged  by  these  exciting  events. 
It  is  very  unfortunate.  Even  during  Millicent's 
visit  to  the  Cottage,  I  detected  a  recurrence  to  that 
state  of  lethargy  which,  when  once  chronic,  is  so 
hard  to  combat,  and  now  —  now  I  look  for  serious 
retrogression.  I  want  Paul  to  be  interested,  of 
course,  but  it  should  be  in  impersonal  matters. 
Nothing  that  will  cause  him  to  brood,  nothing  that 
will  impress  him  with  his  own  mental  defects,  should 
come  to  his  notice.  For  this  reason  I  would  keep 
from  him  the  news  of  his  true  parentage,  just  as  I 
would  hide  the  vital  importance  of  his  regaining  his 
memory.  He  should  be  occupied  and  diverted;  not 
disturbed  or  forced." 

"  Then  what  do  you  suggest?"  John  Strain 
asked. 

"  I  suggest  that  I  take  him  back  with  me  to  my 
college  rooms  for  the  rest  of  this  vacation.  He  is 
accustomed  to  being  there,  it  is  now  very  quiet  and 
retired,  and  he  and  I  are  the  best  of  friends.  By 
the  opening  of  the  fall  term,  he  might  be  able  not 
only  to  depend  on  himself  but  to  help  himself." 

"Very  good,"  said  the  Governor.  "You  go  ahead 
with  your  ideas  and  I'll  back  you  in  any  way  and  to 


THE   PARDON  381 

any  extent.  By  the  way,  though,  I  wouldn't  mind 
looking  him  over  myself,  from  a  professional  point 
of  view.  I  want  to  determine  just  how  far  it  would 
be  advisable  to  use  him  as  a  witness  in  this  problem 
atical  litigation  of  ours.  Would  there  be  any  harm 
in  bringing  him  here  for  a  friendly  call?  " 

"  No,  indeed,"  returned  Tancredi.  "  It  would 
seem  proper  that  he  should  thank  the  Governor  who 
pardoned  him,  and  the  call  might  do  him  good.  We 
will  come,  if  agreeable,  in  two  weeks.  But  mean 
while  he  should  see  no  one  except  myself,  he  should 
learn  only  what  I  judge  is  beneficial,  or  at  least  not 
harmful,  for  him  to  know." 

Tancredi  hastened  to  return  to  Tip-top  Cottage. 
He  found  Paul,  as  he  had  apprehended,  in  a  state  of 
indifference  to  everything  that  went  on  about  him, 
while  joined  to  it  was  a  gentleness  that  was  capti 
vating,  and  a  slowness  of  speech  that  was  pathetic. 
He  showed  warmth,  however,  in  his  greeting,  and  a 
certain  understanding  of  his  own  needs. 

"  I  am  glad  you  are  going  to  take  me  back  again 
for  a  while,"  he  said.  "  I  feel  a  confidence  in  you 
that  I  feel  for  no  one  else ;  and  I  feel,  too,  that  you 
have  brought  me  good  luck.  It  will  not  be  very 
long,  I  hope,  before  I  shall  be  what  I  once  was  — 
and  what,  I  know  well,  I  am  not  now.  There  are 
holes  —  I  once  knew  the  Latin  for  it.  Let  me  think, 
—  is  it  lacunae?  " 


382      THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

"  Yes,  that  is  the  word,"  Tancredi  answered. 

"  Queer,  isn't  it,"  Paul  went  on,  "  that  I  recall 
out-of-the-way  things  like  that,  and  yet  that  I  grope 
in  my  mind  for  the  facts  —  "  * 

"  Come,  come,  no  more  of  that.  As  your  physi 
cian  I  must  interdict  that  topic." 

"  Oh,  you  needn't  worry,"  Paul  replied  smiling, 
"  it  does  not  excite  me.  It  seems  as  if  nothing 
could  excite  me.  The  Paul  Breen  who  was  con 
victed  —  " 

"  If  you  disobey  your  physician,"  Tancredi  again 
interrupted,  "  how  can  he  cure  you  ?  Time  enough 
for  all  that  later.  Come,  let  us  pack  your  things,  as 
we  will  just  have  time  to  catch  the  noon  train." 

Paul  became  more  vivacious  as  the  noon  train, 
which  happened  to  be  one  of  the  fastest  limited 
expresses,  began  to  attain  its  high  speed.  His 
eye  brightened,  and  a  faint  color  came  into  his 
cheeks. 

"  You  look  better  already,"  Tancredi  said. 

"  It  isn't  only  looking  better,"  Paul  replied,  "  but 
I  am  clearer-headed.  There  is  something  in  the 
rattle  —  the  vibration  of  the  train  that  seems  to 
clarify  my  mind.  I  can  think  rapidly  and  talk  with 
out  hesitation.  I  used  to  have  an  idea  —  do  you 
know  ?  —  that  all  life,  all  intelligence,  was  a  form 
of  vibratory  action,  not  mechanical,  of  course,  and 
yet  influenced  in  some  degree  by  mechanical  agita- 


THE  PARDON  383 

tion.  The  deaf  often  hear  better,  don't  they,  when 
some  din  has  aroused  the  auditory  nerve?  So  it  is 
with  my  brain.  It  needs  shaking  up  in  more  senses 
than  one,  Professor." 

Paul  laughed  as  he  said  this,  and  Tancredi  lis 
tened  in  amazement.  Was  this  not  a  chance  refer 
ence  to  the  experiments  outlined  in  the  note-book? 
Dare  he  stimulate  the  memory  by  questions,  or  was 
it  not  better,  as  he  had  already  determined,  to  trust 
to  the  gradual  and  natural  association  of  ideas? 
Paul  caught  his  intent  glance,  and  replied  to  it  at 
once. 

"  Oh,  my  notion  is  not  so  absurd  as  it  may  ap 
pear,"  he  went  on,  half-jokingly.  "  Let  us  suppose 
that  my  brain  is  not  twisted,  but  only  muffled  in 
some  strange  fashion  —  certain  centres  deadened, 
and  therefore  not  responsive.  If  this  had  been 
caused  by  shock,  might  it  not  be  cured  by  shock? 
Oh,  if  there  were  any  way  —  " 

"  You  have  so  many  pleasant  things  to  antici 
pate,"  said  Tancredi,  choosing  the  more  prudent 
part,  "  that  it  hardly  seems  worth  while  to  bother 
with  abstractions  until  your  health  is  fully  restored. 
I  may  even  say  that  this  is  your  first  duty  —  remem 
ber  the  faithful  friends  who  still  are  so  anxious 
about  you  —  remember  Constance  Sanderson  —  " 

"  I  do  remember  her  very  well,  indeed,"  said  Paul 
coolly.  "  She  was  always  kind  and  agreeable  to 


384      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

me.  I  think  we  corresponded  for  a  while.  I  really 
was  fond  of  her  once." 

Fond  of  her  once!  Again  Tancredi  looked  at 
Paul  in  wonder,  but  now  the  face  of  his  patient 
remained  calm,  undisturbed,  irresponsive.  He  was 
leaning  back  in  the  seat,  gazing  out  of  the  window 
with  an  expression  absolutely  placid.  Tancredi  was 
unreasonably  provoked.  He  recalled  the  rapturous 
longing  in  Constance's  eyes  as,  only  the  day  before, 
they  had  talked  together  over  the  hopes  of  the 
future;  and  now  that  lover,  so  idealized,  so  adored, 
was  saying  apathetically  that  he  had  been  "  fond  of 
her  once."  He  exclaimed  hastily,  and  without  real 
izing  how  foolish  he  was : 

"  Why,  Paul,  you  are  engaged  to  her ;  and  she 
has  been  breaking  her  heart  over  you." 

"  Oh,  I  guess  not,"  returned  Paul.  "  I  don't 
think  she  cared  particularly  about  me.  Some  boy 
and  girl  nonsense,  perhaps ;  but  no  harm  done  on 
either  side,  Professor.  You'll  see  it  will  be  all 
right." 

And  Paul  changed  the  subject,  speaking  with 
keen  appreciation  of  the  view  from  the  car-window, 
while  Tancredi,  sick  at  heart  when  he  thought  of 
Constance,  was  depressed  by  this  fresh  proof  of 
how  impenetrable  Paul's  mind  was  in  certain  direc 
tions.  This  instance  made  him  all  the  more  positive 
that  the  time  was  not  yet  ripe  for  tests  of  so  sensi- 


THE   PARDON  385 

tive  an  organ,  and  he  confined  his  remarks  to  the 
practical  present,  finding  his  companion  both  intel 
ligent  and  congenial. 

When  Paul  was  once  more  in  Tancredi's  rooms 
the  poor  fellow  gave  a  deep  sigh  of  relief.  He  sank 
into  an  easy  chair  and,  picking  up  a  book  from  the 
table,  held  it  affectionately  in  his  hands  as  if  he 
loved  it. 

"  Here,  Professor,"  said  Paul,  with  enthusiasm, 
but  speaking  with  less  animation  than  he  had  shown 
on  the  train,  "  here  is  the  true  friend  of  mankind. 
Give  me  for  a  friend  a  good  book.  Always  ready 
with  counsel  or  with  merriment,  as  one's  mood  de 
mands;  silent  or  talkative  at  will;  the  magic  link 
that  binds  the  present  and  the  past,  the  solace  that 
fails  not.  When  I  am  forgetful  of  the  blessing  of 
books,  may  I  forget  my  alphabet." 

Tancredi  filled  his  favorite  pipe;  and,  when  the 
smoke  was  curling  confidentially  toward  the  ceiling, 
replied  to  Paul's  eulogium. 

"  I  am  as  fond  of  a  book  as  old  Grolier  himself," 
he  agreed ;  "  but  just  now  I  am  in  the  mood  to  say 
a  word  for  woman,  lovely  woman.  It  is  only  two 
days,  you  must  know,  since  I  have  become  engaged 
to  be  married." 

"  I  am  very  glad,"  Paul  responded  warmly,  "  and 
I  wish  you  every  happiness.  "  Some  rich  heiress,  I 
hope?" 


386     THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

"  No,  I  am  going  to  marry  Miss  Twigg,  Millicent 
Twigg.  Funny  name,  isn't  it?  " 

"  Oh,  I  know,"  Paul  cried,  "  that  is  the  pretty, 
black-eyed  girl  who  was  so  excited  about  something 
or  other  the  day  of  the  storm  on  the  mountains. 
Well,  it  is  a  pity  she  is  not  rich.  '  Don't  ye  marry 
for  money,  but  go  where  money  is,'  saith  the  poet. 
Life  is  full  of  troubles,  and  money  is  a  most  con 
venient  medium  of  exchange,  as  Jevons  puts  it. 
Still,  it  may  be  you  don't  need  it.  I  do.  I  should 
hate  to  be  tempted  by  a  mercenary  match  —  I  fear 
I  should  be  inflammable.  I  am  ambitious,  or  was, 
and  I  used  to  have  a  taste  for  pure  science.  And 
that  costs  money." 

Now  that  he  was  once  more  under  Tancredi's 
wing,  Paul  seemed  entirely  at  ease.  He  showed 
little  concern  about  his  future,  and  none  at  all  for 
current  events;  obeying  implicitly  the  injunctions  of 
his  physician.  He  read  voraciously,  and  appar 
ently  with  a  keen  understanding,  choosing  scientific 
works  to  the  exclusion  of  all  else. 

Tancredi  was  thus  enabled  to  devote  some  atten 
tion  to  the  new  complication  added  to  his  respon 
sibilities,  and,  at  the  first  opportunity,  he  went  to 
Hamlin  to  prepare  Constance  for  the  change  in  her 
lover.  He  had  persuaded  her  previously  that  it 
would  be  well  that  a  few  days  should  elapse  before 
she  saw  Paul.  His  reason  had  been  his  hope  that 


THE  PARDON  387 

Paul  would  be  better  able  then  to  bear  the  excite 
ment  of  meeting  her.  He  was  now  glad  of  this  for 
precisely  the  opposite  reason  —  he  hoped  that  she 
would  be  better  prepared  for  his  apathy  toward  her. 
He  tried,  therefore,  to  lay  the  foundation  for  some 
great  change;  but  Constance  persisted  in  misunder 
standing  him,  believing  that  he  referred  to  a  phys 
ical  change,  a  loss  of  health,  and  assuring  him  that 
it  would  make  no  difference.  He  was  forced  at  last 
to  confide  in  Millicent,  and  to  beg  for  her  advice. 

"  Paul  Breen,"  Tancredi  explained,  "  speaks  of 
Constance  as  of  a  schoolboy's  sweetheart.  He  evi 
dently  never  thinks  of  her  except  when  I  mention 
her  name.  What  shall  I  do,  dear?  What  can  we 
do  to  prepare  her  ?  " 

"We  cannot  prepare  her,"  Millicent  answered; 
"  there  are  some  vagaries  of  the  masculine  mind 
that  the  feminine  mind  is  absolutely  incapable  of 
comprehending.  Of  course,  he  is  not  himself  —  but 
how  can  he  forget,  while  he  knows  enough  to 
breathe,  her  devotion  to  him?  At  all  events,  you 
cannot  keep  them  apart  longer,  or  Constance  will 
follow  my  wicked  example  and  go  to  Carteret  her 
self.  Cannot  you  contrive  that  their  first  meeting 
shall  be  one  where  it  would  be  natural  for  them  to 
be  somewhat  reserved  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  think  so,"  Tancredi  answered.  "  I  am 
going  to  bring  Paul  to  town  to  call  on  Governor 


388      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

Strain  and  express  his  acknowledgments.  Con 
stance  and  you  might  be  at  the  station  and  go  with 
us." 

"  I  think  that  will  be  the  best  possible  plan,"  Mil- 
licent  reflected.  "  Of  course,  Constance  is  not  on 
speaking  terms  with  Mrs.  Strain,  but  this  will  be  in 
the  nature  of  an  official  call  on  the  Governor,  to 
whom  I  know  she  wishes  to  show  her  gratitude. 
Besides,  if  she  thinks  it  is  Paul's  wish,  she  will  put 
aside  any  petty  feelings.  Paul  will  naturally  be 
somewhat  absorbed  by  the  thought  of  what  he  is 
going  to  say  to  the  Governor,  and  so  Constance  may 
have  time  to  divine  gradually  the  change  in  him. 
If  it  came  to  her  all  at  once  I  fear  it  would  break 
her  heart.  Oh,  dear,  how  happy  we  ought  to  be 
that  no  one  is  making  such  plans  about  us." 

This  project  was  carried  out  to  the  letter.  Paul 
arrived  with  Tancredi,  delighted  with  the  little  jour 
ney,  and  prepared  to  greet  Constance  as  one  who 
had  stood  by  him  faithfully  in  his  time  of  distress. 
His  greeting  of  her  was  cordial  and  gay,  and  though 
Constance  was  surprised  and  a  little  chilled,  yet 
through  the  joint  efforts  of  Tancredi  and  Millicent, 
reinforced  by  the  pleadings  of  her  own  heart,  she 
was  led  to  ascribe  his  lack  of  demonstrativeness  to 
their  being  in  the  company  of  others,  to  a  sense  of 
strangeness,  and  to  his  interest  in  the  visit  to  the 
Governor. 


THE   PARDON  389 

Besides,  the  walk  to  the  Governor's  house  gave 
Paul  time  to  feel  the  unconscious  charm  of  Con 
stance's  affection,  evidenced  as  it  was  by  every 
glance  and  tone ;  and  he  soon  showed  by  his  attitude 
that  he  was  attracted  strongly  to  her.  It  was  as  if 
their  courtship  were  beginning  anew ;  and  Tancredi 
and  Millicent  began  to  hope  that  a  new  love  might 
spring  up  in  Paul's  heart  before  Constance  had 
learned  the  loss  of  the  old  one. 

The  Governor  was  at  home,  and  received  them 
in  the  library.  Paul  bore  himself  with  great  dignity, 
and  showed  a  fitting  gratitude  to  the  man  who  had 
pardoned  him.  As  he  alone  was  ignorant  of  his 
relationship  to  Strain,  so,  he,  alone,  of  the  little 
company,  was  not  embarrassed  and  troubled  by  the 
thought  of  it.  Perhaps  the  influence  of  Constance's 
faith  was  with  him,  even  if  the  memory  of  it  was 
not;  for  he  seemed  anxious  to  justify  himself. 

"  My  obligation  to  you,  Governor,"  he  declared, 
"  is  not  lessened  by  the  assurance  in  my  own  mind 
that  I  have  never  been  a  guilty  man.  I  don't  know 
what  I  did  do  —  that  is  my  appalling  misfortune. 
But  I  do  know  what  I  didn't  do  —  and  that  has 
been  and  is  my  consolation.  This  hand,  which  I 
dare  stretch  out  to  you,  is  as  free  as  yours  from 
guilt." 

The  Governor  seemed  strangely  moved.  For  a 
moment  he  hesitated,  for  a  moment  he  could  not 


390     THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

command  his  voice.  Then  he  seized  Paul's  hand  in 
both  his  own. 

"  Paul,"  he  said,  "  I  have  done  you  a  great  wrong, 
a  greater  wrong  than  you  know.  A  portion  of  that 
wrong  I  have  undone;  and,  by  the  grace  of  God,  I 
will  make  your  innocence  manifest  in  atonement  for 
the  rest.  Trust  in  me,  my  boy  —  I  cannot  say  more, 
now.  But  you  may  count  on  me  as  devoted  to  your 
service,  heart  and  soul." 

Paul  looked  bewildered  by  these  impassioned 
words,  and  drew  back  restrainedly.  An  awkward 
silence  ensued  until  the  others  by  a  united  effort 
forced  the  current  of  conversation  into  brighter 
channels,  where  it  remained  until  the  call  was  over. 

They  passed  down  the  broad  corridor  toward  the 
door;  the  two  girls  in  advance,  the  young  men  fol 
lowing.  At  the  stairway  an  elderly  woman,  whose 
narrow  face  was  still  more  drawn  by  anxiety,  caught 
Constance  by  the  arm  with  utter  disregard  of  the 
others.  It  was  Mrs.  Strain. 

"  Oh,  Constance,  dear  Constance,"  she  cried ; 
"  won't  you  forgive  me  for  my  unjust,  my  cruel 
treatment?  I  do  so  need  you  at  this  vital  time. 
Tell  me,  dear,  is  Paul  coming  here  to  live ;  and  won't 
you  use  the-  sweet  persuasion  of  your  love  to  induce 
him  to  feel  kindly  toward  me  and  to  —  " 

11  Hush ! "  warned  Constance  with  expressive 
finger. 


THE   PARDON  391 

But  the  mischief  was  done.  With  one  of  those 
sudden  impulses  so  characteristic  of  a  mind  not 
normal,  Paul  wheeled  sharply  around  and  marched 
back  to  the  library.  Tancredi  followed  him,  while 
the  girls  accompanied  Mrs.  Strain  to  her  room, 
calming  her  with  loving  words. 

"  I  am  surrounded  by  mysteries,"  exclaimed  Paul, 
as  he  again  faced  the  Governor,  "  and  I  won't  endure 
it  longer.  What  did  you  mean,  sir,  by  saying  that 
you  had  wronged  me  greatly?  You  were  a  sworn 
officer  of  the  law ;  it  was  your  duty  to  prosecute  me. 
I  never  blamed  you  for  doing  so.  What  did  Mrs. 
Strain  mean,  too,  just  now,  when  she  asked  whether 
I  was  going  to  live  in  this  house?  Why  should  I 
live  where  I  was  never  very  welcome  ?  Why  should 
she  wish  me  to  feel  kindly  toward  her,  when  I  know 
I  never  was  a  favorite  with  her?  Why  should  she 
appeal  to  Miss  Sanderson  for  the  influence  of  her 
love?  I  won't  stand  it,  I  say.  I  am  groping  in  the 
darkness  and  you  are  all  conspiring  together  to  keep 
me  from  the  light." 

Tancredi  looked  anxiously  into  his  patient's  face, 
and  then  nodded  gravely  to  the  Governor. 

"  Be  calm,  Paul,  I  beseech  you,"  said  John  Strain, 
paling  under  the  effort  for  self-control.  "  We  are 
all  your  friends,  we  are  all  seeking  for  the  best  way 
in  which  to  serve  you.  There  are  mysteries  about 
you,  but  you  shall  know  them  all.  Not  from  me; 


392      THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

that  might  not  be  seemly;  but  from  Professor  Tan- 
credi  here,  at  once  your  faithful  friend  and  your 
skilful  physician.  Go,  then,  with  him;  and  have 
faith  that  in  time  all  will  be  well." 

They  passed  again  through  the  broad  corridor, 
and  then  down  the  winding  stairs.  At  the  portico 
the  girls  were  waiting,  and  the  four  walked  through 
the  streets  to  Phineas  Twigg's  house.  But  no 
longer  did  Millicent  and  Tancredi  exchange  sly 
glances  of  hope;  no  longer  did  Paul  thrill  with  the 
faint  recognition  of  something  inexpressibly  dear  to 
him.  He  was  wrapped  in  moody  silence;  he  was 
distracted  by  wild  and  conflicting  thoughts;  and, 
when  at  length  they  separated,  the  young  men 
returning  to  the  station,  Constance's  face  wore  a 
deeper  resignation  than  it  ever  before  had  known. 

"  Oh,  I  could  just  shake  him,"  murmured  Mil 
licent,  as  she  watched  her  friend's  weary  steps  up 
the  stairs. 


CHAPTER    XXVII 

PREPARING    FOR    THE    STRUGGLE 

PAUL  BREEN  listened  to  Tancredi's  revelations 
without  question  or  other  interruption.  For  an  hour 
afterward  he  sat  apart  in  silent  thought.  Then  he 
rejoined  his  comrade,  evidently  striving  to  act  as  if 
nothing  out  of  the  usual  had  happened.  But  to 
Tancredi's  keen  eye  he  had  changed ;  and  this  change 
had  its  inception  in  the  moment,  when,  of  his  own 
accord,  he  had  started  back,  in  Strain's  house,  to 
demand  an  explanation  of  the  Governor.  In  a  word, 
he  had  become  less  dependent ;  and,  whether  he  was 
hopeful  or  despondent  of  the  future,  had  determined 
to  act  for  himself.  He  wrote  briefly,  but  not  unfeel 
ingly,  to  his  father;  and  Strain  replied,  insisting  on 
providing  for  his  needs  and  comforts  and  renewing 
his  promise  of  ultimate  vindication.  B'eing  thus 
enabled  to  follow  out  his  own  tastes,  Paul  began  to 
take  occasional  trips  to  Hamlin,  with  a  view  of  find 
ing  lodgings,  secluded  yet  convenient,  where  he 
might  establish  himself.  Tancredi  encouraged  these 
visits,  as  he  hoped  they  might  lead  to  a  closer  inti- 

393 


394     THE   CASE   OF   PAUL  BREEN 

macy  with  those  who  had  Paul's  well-being  so  much 
at  heart. 

But  feelings  of  delicacy,  a  shrinking  from  the 
personal  explanations  of  his  father,  a  dread,  espe 
cially,  of  Mrs.  Strain's  probable  attitude  toward  him, 
kept  him  from  visiting  the  Strains'  house.  Nor,  as 
would  seem  more  natural,  did  he  frequent  the  court- 
crier's  humble  home.  He  was  embarrassed  by  the 
unreserve  and  frankness  of  Constance's  manner  to 
him.  Her  glances,  her  casual  references,  her  whis 
pered  confidences  and  intimate  inquiries,  all  seemed 
predicated  upon  a  community  of  interest  which  he 
could  not  understand  and  would  not  admit.  Why, 
when  his  individuality  had  never  been  so  insistent 
in  its  demands;  why,  when  he  was  becoming  more 
and  more  convinced  of  his  own  supreme  isolation, 
should  she  simulate  a  relationship  without  warrant 
in  past  or  present? 

On  returning  thus,  once  and  again,  to  Hamlin, 
Paul  came  to  perceive  that  popular  opinion  was  hos 
tile  to  him.  The  acquaintances  of  former  days  now 
avoided  him ;  strangers,  who  ordinarily  would  not 
have  observed  his  passing,  now  followed  him  with 
sour  glance  and  caustic  comment.  His  pardon  had 
enlarged,  but  not  destroyed,  his  imprisonment.  He 
could  take  a  few  steps  more  this  way  or  that ;  but, 
in  the  end,  he  ran  against  the  blank  wall  of  prej 
udice. 


PREPARING   FOR  THE   STRUGGLE  395 

One  day  Paul  encountered  Adolph,  sauntering 
along  with  three  friends  whom  he  himself  had 
known.  Involuntarily  he  stopped  and  put  out  his 
hand.  "  Adolph,"  he  said,  "  it  seems  like  old  times 
to  see  you.  I  forget  the  harshness  of  your  judg 
ment;  I  only  remember  when  we  were  boys  to 
gether  —  " 

"  Hear  the  fellow,"  cried  Adolph  scornfully  to 
his  friends,  "  of  course  he  is  anxious  to  forget,  I 
should  think  he  would  be !  " 

"  But  Adolph,  I  was  pardoned ;  a  pardon 
restores  —  " 

"  Oh,  does  it?  Well,  try  it  on,  then.  Here  are 
three  representative  citizens  who  have  no  unpleasant 
recollection  of  you.  Ask  them  what  they  think  of 
your  rehabilitation." 

Paul  looked  piteously  at  the  three  young  men. 

"  The  circumstances  of  its  granting  were  so  extra 
ordinary  —  "  began  one. 

"  And  really,  you  know,  it  was  such  a  peculiarly 
atrocious  crime  —  "  added  another. 

"  Why  not  let  well  enough  alone  ?  "  asked  the 
third. 

Paul  watched  the  malice  kindle  and  glow  and 
leap  triumphantly  in  Adolph's  eyes;  and  he  turned 
away  sadly.  Yes,  he  was  still  a  prisoner,  serving 
for  life ;  cut  off  from  human  sympathy,  despised  and 
rejected  of  men.  Tancredi  was  an  exception,  an 


396      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL  BREEN 

anomaly;  besides,  term-time  would  soon  begin,  and 
then  he  would  be  a  busy  man,  absorbed  in  his  pro 
fession  and  harnessed  to  the  tread-mill  of  routine. 
Where  else,  then,  did  he  have,  or  had  he  ever  had, 
a  friend?  Friendship  showed  itself  in  deeds,  not 
words;  who  else  was  there,  or  ever  had  there 'been, 
to  do  a  kindly,  unselfish  act  for  him?  As  Paul 
bitterly  asked  himself  these  questions,  their  answer 
came  in  a  flash  of  contrition  and  shame.  What 
right  had  he  to  expect  or  to  complain,  when  he 
himself  had  been  so  neglectful  ?  What  had  he  done 
for  Soci'ty  Dan?  How  much  even  had  he  thought 
of  him?  —  and  yet  this  man,  uncultured,  unprin 
cipled,  in  his  rude  way  had  been  true  to  the  faith  of 
him  who  layeth  down  his  life  for  a  friend. 

Paul  wrote  to  Soci'ty  Dan,  supplementing  grateful 
words  with  a  box  of  those  comestibles  which  experi 
ence  had  taught  him  were  most  highly  prized  in 
prison.  In  the  course  of  a  month,  a  reasonable  time 
for  convict  correspondence,  an  answer  was  returned ; 
and  with  it  revived  the  old,  hopeless  agony,  as  from 
cramped,  painful  writing,  sticky  ink  and  coarse 
paper,  he  seemed  to  catch  the  fetid  essence  which 
for  endless  aeons  had  lingered  on  his  lips,  saturated 
his  flesh  and  corrupted  his  entire  being. 

And  yet,  Paul  smiled  as  he  read;  for,  twinkling 
through  the  vulgar  medium,  shone  the  shrewd,  droll 
eyes  of  Soci'ty  Dan.  "The  stuff  kem  to  hand,  all 


PREPARING   FOR  THE   STRUGGLE  397 

right  —  hot'  hands,  I  may  say,"  the  letter  began. 
Ah,  Soci'ty  would  have  his  joke;  it  was  the  magic 
wand  with  which  he  held  of!  the  wretchedness  of 
fate.  "  The  nex'  time,"  the  letter  continued,  "  please 
send  more  milk  and  fewer  eggs.  Them  condensed 
slugs  is  as  good  as  gold  for  tradun;  while  eggs 
foller  the  gin'ral  rule,  and  the  longer  they're  kep'  in 
the  cooler,  the  wuss  they  git."  There  was  the  mer 
cenary  instinct,  surely  enough,  ever  intent  on  future 
benefits ;  yet,  why  shouldn't  it  be  more  excusable  in 
prison,  where  it  was  stimulated  by  hardship,  than 
in  the  outer  world  where  it  throve  on  luxury,  and 
grew  more  arrogant  with  increase? 

Poor  Soci'ty,  thought  Paul,  as  he  laid  down  the 
bethumbed  and  blotted  missive;  a  meagre  result 
for  the  strain  of  hand  and  arm,  and  the  twist  of 
mouth  and  brows  it  had  cost.  Then  his  eye  caught 
a  small  "  p.  s.,"  set  in  a  scroll  in  the  lower  right- 
hand  corner;  and,  turning  the  page,  he  read  as 
follows : 

"  I  was  woolin'  over  your  case,  the  odder  night, 
and  remimbered  thet  I  never  tole  you  how  the  young 
gal  I  met  at  the  freight-car  gev'  me  a  little  silver- 
bound  book,  which  I  put  up  the  spout  in  the  shop 
where  I  was  pinched.  Be  the  same  token,  I  junked 
it  in  the  name  she  was  sportun,  *  Ed  Flyaway,'  I 
t'ink.  Now,  don't  you  see  the  Gov'nor  wudn't  take 
me  wud,  —  and  I  wudn't  eeder  for  thet  matter,  — 


398      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

but,  if  you  kin  show  thet  the  book  b'longed  to  her 
or  to  some  of  her  people,  and  the  name  was  wan  she 
uster  use,  why  it  comes  dam  near  squarin'  all  I  said. 
P'raps  you  wonder  why  I  didn't  tell  this  afore. 
Well,  mebbe  I  didn't  like  you  to  know  thet  I  had 
worked  the  poor  kid  outer  all  she  was  wuth;  mebbe 
I  cudn't  git  over  the  habit  us  lags  all  hev'  of  never 
tellin'  all  we  knows.  At  all  ewents,  I  seen  fit  to 
keep  it  dark." 

Paul  read  these  words  over  and  over  again,  at 
first  dully,  perfunctorily,  so  vividly  did  the  days 
come  back  when  he  had  eaten  out  his  heart  with  the 
suspense  of  waiting  for  an  answer  to  his  petition. 
Then,  slowly,  gradually,  the  direct  bearings  of  these 
additional  facts  became  apparent  to  him.  Yes, 
Soci'ty  was  right ;  in  a  sense,  to  a  degree,  they  were 
corroborative;  perhaps,  had  they  been  placed  before 
the  Governor  at  the  time,  he  might  have  decided 
differently.  Perhaps,  if  they  were  placed  before 
him  now,  they  might  supply  that  lack  of  proof 
which  seemed  to  be  paralyzing  his  efforts.  Here  at 
length  was  something  tangible ;  here  was  truth,  un- 
smirched  by  prison  grime.  As  Paul  Breen  decided, 
there  was  an  unusual  glow  in  his  white,  set  face, 
the  reflection,  perhaps,  of  the  first  gleam  of  hope  in 
the  darkness  which  had  so  long  surrounded  him. 

"  I  have  followed  out  your  advice,"  he  said  to 
Tancredi  at  the  first  opportunity,  "  and  have  re- 


PREPARING   FOR  THE   STRUGGLE  399 

framed  from  examining  my  old  note-book,  which 
you  have ;  but  now  I  want  it." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  it  ?  "  asked 
Tancredi  anxiously. 

"  I  don't  know  yet.  I  am  going  to  take  it  to  my 
father  with  these  new  facts,  and  see  what  he  has 
to  say." 

"Very  well;  here  it  is,"  the  Professor  agreed, 
"  but  I  warn  you  that  you  are  not  yet  mentally 
strong  enough  to  make  an  exhaustive  study  of  it." 

Meanwhile,  the  popular  outburst  through  which 
John  Strain,  with  the  help  of  his  wife,  had  passed 
unscathed,  had  proved  a  mere  flash  in  the  pan.  By 
the  very  next  day,  the  indignation  had  dwindled  into 
a  sort  of  contemptuous  indifference.  Mr.  Carring- 
ton's  views  were  generally  accepted ;  the  Governor 
was  done  for,  a  shade  of  his  former,  forceful  self, 
hardly  darkening  the  chair  in  which  the  law  per 
mitted  him  to  sit  for  a  number  of  months  yet,  and 
certain  to  disappear  from  all  reckoning  when  his 
term  should  expire.  The  National  Convention  met, 
and,  as  is  usual  in  a  country  where  average  pre 
vails,  honored  mediocrity  with  its  choice.  Strain's 
name  was  not  even  mentioned.  Among  his  political 
supporters  he  was  already  dead,  and  there  was  not 
fragrance  enough  to  his  memory  to  divert  the  self- 
seeking  thoughts  of  any  of  them  for  an  instant. 

John    Strain  bore   his   sudden   occultation   com- 


400 

posedly;  gaining  coolness  from  the  shade.  Like  all 
the  dead,  he  found  that  he  had  more  time  to  him 
self;  and  this  time  he  now  devoted  to  Paul.  With 
his  trained,  dogged  purpose  never  to  leave  one 
thing  undone,  and  to  do  each  thing  in  its  order 
thoroughly  and  completely,  he  went  over  the  case 
step  by  step  from  the  very  beginning,  employing 
men  who  were  detectives  in  deeds  not  in  name  to 
test  and  verify  every  detail.  The  result  was  dis 
appointing.  As  a  lawyer,  had  he  the  case  for  the 
people  to  try  over  again,  he  would  be  just  as  certain 
of  conviction;  just  as  positive  in  that  event  that  the 
right  had  prevailed.  As  a  Governor,  had  he  Paul's 
application  again  before  him,  with  the  affidavit  of 
Soci'ty  Dan,  he  would  deny  the  one  as  a  matter  of 
course,  repudiating  the  other  as  not  worthy  the 
consideration  of  a  decent  man.  The  newly  discov 
ered  evidence  on  which  Phineas  Twigg  and  Con 
stance  had  counted  so  much  was  fragmentary  and 
disjointed;  links  were  missing,  and,  until  they  were 
supplied,  the  suspicions  against  Adolph  would 
remain  suspicions,  and  the  pawning  of  the  note 
book  would  continue  to  be  a  mystery  unsolved. 

These  suspicions  against  Adolph,  however,  be 
came  more  and  more  well-founded  in  the  Gover 
nor's  mind.  Mrs.  Strain,  dragging  out  from  her 
retentive  memory  a  little  incident  here,  an  unim 
portant  happening  there,  had  made  Adolph's  ma- 


PREPARING  FOR  THE   STRUGGLE  401 

lignity  and  complicity  a  condition  precedent  to  the 
whole  trouble.  But,  since  there  was  no  legal  evi 
dence  to  prove  it,  of  what  avail  was  the  assurance? 
Of  this  much,  at  least.  It  convinced  him  that  there 
was  no  truth  in  the  story  that  Paul  had  been  under 
the  influence  of  opium  on  that  fatal  morning,  and 
this  compelled  him  logically  to  the  conclusion  that 
the  young  man  must  have  been  doing  something 
which  had  resulted  in  a  shock  and  consequent  im 
pairment  of  memory.  What  then  was  this  thing, 
and  how  could  it  be  shown;  since  the  only  one  who 
knew  its  purpose  could  not  remember?  A  startling 
thought  flashed  out  from  and  over  John  Strain's 
fertile  mind,  unaccepted,  but  not  rejected,  and  filed 
away  for  possible  consideration,  should  the  issue 
arise  when  a  desperate  remedy  might  be  a  prudent 
one. 

From  such  musings  as  these  John  Strain  was 
roused,  one  evening,  by  the  unexpected  entrance  of 
his  son.  "  Ah,  my  boy,"  he  cried,  with  that  unac 
customed  softness  which  the  thought  or  sight  of 
Paul  seemed  to  impart  to  his  heart,  "  have  you  come 
to  your  home  ?  " 

"  No,"  Paul  answered  decidedly.  "  I  have  come 
on  a  business  visit  to  my  lawyer." 

"  Whatever  the  motive,  you  are  very  welcome." 

"  I  am  very  unhappy,"  cried  Paul  passionately. 
"  I  can't  stand  this  delay.  Do  you  know  what  peo- 


402      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

pie  think?  They  regard  me  as  a  lucky  criminal, 
imwhipped  of  Justice.  You  did  me  a  wrong,  sir,  a 
grievous  wrong,  when  you  issued  that  pardon!  It 
is  vindication  I  want,  not  freedom.  Is  a  pariah  any 
the  happier  for  being  unbound?  I  tell  you  I  was 
better  off  in  prison ;  at  least  I  was  entitled  to  privacy 
there;  while  you  have  exposed  me  to  public 
scorn  —  " 

"  Paul,  you  must  be  patient,"  said  John  Strain, 
almost  entreatingly ;  "  the  law  is  slow,  but  it  is  as 
sure  as  human  endeavor  can  be.  Remember,  it  was 
the  work  of  months  to  convict  you ;  so,  too,  it  will 
take  time,  a  weary  time,  I  admit,  to  establish  your 
innocence.  It  is  a  difficult  case,  with  all  the  known 
facts  against  you,  and  only  inferences  in  your 
favor.  You,  yourself,  have  the  solution,  locked  up 
somewhere  in  your  mind;  but  you  can't  find  the 
key.  Don't  you  see  how  little  else  there  is,  and 
how  unavailable  this  little  is?  Do  you  suppose,  for 
instance,  that  any  court  of  law  would  listen  seriously 
to  the  testimony  of  the  man  whose  affidavit  you 
sent  me,  a  notorious  offender,  disqualified,  out 
lawed,  prejudiced,  too,  in  your  favor,  your  com 
panion  in  flight,  which  was  itself  a  major  in  offence 
—  do  you  think  that  his  word,  without  corrob- 
oration  —  " 

"  Ah,  but  I  have  corroboration ;  "  and,  all  of  a 
tremble,  Paul  read  the  postscript  to  Soci'ty's  letter. 


PREPARING   FOR  THE   STRUGGLE  403 

"  Where  is  that  note-book ;  have  you  got  it  ?  " 
Strain  demanded. 

"  Yes;  here  it  is." 

"  Ah,  the  book  that  I  have  heard  so  much  about 
—  well,  what  can  you  recall  regarding  it?  " 

"  I  remember,"  replied  Paul  slowly,  straining 
evidently  every  vital  power,  "  I  remember  I  used  to 
make  notes  in  it  about  some  work  I  was  doing  — 
yes,  some  work  in  which  I  was  deeply  interested  —  " 

"  When  did  you  see  it  last  ?  " 

"  I  saw  it  last,  let  me  see  —  why,  I  saw  it  last  the 
morning  I  was  hurt." 

"  You  were  hurt?  " 

"  Yes,  I  know  I  was  —  I  think  I  was  —  hurt." 

"  What  were  you  doing  when  you  were  hurt  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  It  is  all  black  —  utter  darkness, 
without  a  hope  of  seeing  or  even  feeling  my  way." 

"  This  book  seems  to  be  rilled  with  a  sort  of 
cipher.  Can  you  read  it  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  can." 

"  Can  you  do  what  it  says  ?  " 

"  I  think  so,  with  the  things  before  me." 

"What  things?" 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  You  haven't  tried,  have  you,  to  do  either  the 
one  or  the  other  ?  " 

"  No ;  but  I  will ;  "  and  Paul  stretched  out  his 
hand  eagerly. 


404      THE    CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

"  Oh,  no,  you  won't ;  at  least  not  now,"  replied 
John  Strain  decisively,  as  he  sealed  the  book  and 
locked  it  in  his  desk.  "  There  may  come  a  time 
—  but,  if  so,  you  mustn't  until  then  know  more  than 
you  do  at  present." 

"  I  will  do  anything,  everything,  you  say  or 
suggest,"  Paul  went  on,  still  wan  and  shaken  from 
his  mental  stress.  "  I'll  risk  my  life  —  I'll  give  my 
life,  if  only  the  world  may  admit  my  innocence." 

"  It  may  come  to  that,  young  man ;  "  and,  then, 
as  if  regretting  what  he  said,  as  if  forcing  the 
subject  from  further  discussion,  John  Strain  con 
tinued  in  his  abrupt,  forceful  way :  "  This  letter 
you  bring,  Paul,  sets  the  ball  a-rolling.  To-morrow, 
I  begin  an  action  in  ejectment  against  Adolph  Breen 
for  the  recovery  of  the  Oriole  Farm,  a  piece  of  land 
in  this  county  of  which  Neil  Breen  -died  seized. 
After  your  conviction,  Philip  Breen  took  title  by 
probate  of  heirship,  and  now  Adolph  inherits  by 
descent  from  his  father." 

"Ejectment?"  Paul  repeated  timidly;  "I  don't 
see  what  that  has  to  do  with  me." 

"  It  has  everything  to  do,  my  boy.  We  may  start 
a  long  way  off  in  the  law,  but  we  arrive  at  the  pre 
cise  point  of  issue.  It  is  very  much  like  an  argu 
ment  in  which  finally  one  of  the  disputants  asserts 
a  naked  fact,  and  the  other  flatly  denies  it.  For 
instance,"  Strain  went  on,  trying  to  state  the  case 


PREPARING   FOR  THE   STRUGGLE  405 

in  the  simplest  form,  "  we  say,  '  Give  us  that  land, 
it  belongs  to  Paul  Breen,  since  Edith  died  unmar 
ried,  during  her  minority.'  They  say,  '  No,  we 
won't;  here's  the  record  showing  that  Paul  was 
convicted  of  murdering  the  girl,  and  a  man  can't 
have  advantage  from  his  own  wrong.'  We  say, 
'  Yes,  you  will ;  here  is  Paul's  full  and  unconditional 
pardon.'  They  say,  '  He  killed  her,  notwithstand 
ing.'  We  say,  'He  did  not;'  and  there  you 
are." 

"  But  what  proof  will  you  have  ?  Didn't  you  say 
that  Soci'ty  is  disqualified  from  testifying  ?  '-' 

John  Strain  laughed  the  short  laugh  of  one  who 
both  sees  and  defies  the  consequences.  "  That  is 
one  of  the  advantages  of  being  Governor,"  he  ex 
plained,  his  chin  tilted  up  with  power.  "  They  think 
I'm  a  dead  duck,  do  they?  Well,  I'll  give  them  a 
twist  before  I  leave  office.  I'll  pardon  and  restore 
to  citizenship  this  man,  Soci'ty,  as  you  call  him. 
Oh,  I  know  what  I'll  be  up  against.  I've  shut  off 
that  rot  about  impeachment  by  giving  out  that  you 
had  made  an  application  for  pardon,  some  time  be 
fore,  which  I  denied  but  afterward  considered.  But 
now,  well,  my  conduct  will  be  flagrant  beyond  ex 
planation  or  condonation;  they'll  have  my  hide  sure, 
my  boy,  unless  I  succeed.  We'll  be  in  the  same  boat 
together;  and  your  good  name  and  my  good  name 
will  depend  on  the  one  cause.  It  will  be  a  tough, 


406      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

up-hill  fight,  against  awful  odds.  Soci'ty  at  best 
will  be  but  a  feeble  reed,  and  oh,  just  won't  he  be 
shaken  by  the  wind!  If  our  case  is  stronger,  so 
will  be  theirs,  you  may  confidently  believe;  Adolph 
Breen  is  not  the  man  to  risk  losing  his  all  for  the 
lack  of  a  little  thing  like  perjury.  '  But  it's  dogged 
as  does  it,'  as  the  poor  parson  in  '  The  Last  Chron 
icles  of  Barset '  says ;  and  John  Strain  is  as  hard  to 
beat  as  that  other  fellow  in  '  Put  Yourself  in  His 
Place.'  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that,  John  ?  "  asked  Mrs. 
Strain?  who  had  noiselessly  entered  just  in  time  to 
hear  the  last  .words.  "  Put  Paul  in  his  place  — 
what  is  Paul's  place  ?  "  And  her  withered  face  was 
distorted  by  suspicion  and  alarm. 

"  Madam,  I  have  no  recognized  place,"  said  Paul 
simply. 

"  Yes,  but  suppose  that  you  did  have  one,  an 
honored  one,  by  right?  Suppose  I  was  the  outcast 
—  not  you,  not  you?  " 

"  Abigail,  mother,"  John  Strain  exclaimed,  "  you 
don't  think  what  you  are  saying!  " 

"  Ah,  madam,"  Paul  replied,  "  that  is  an  impos 
sible,  an  inconceivable  supposition;  and,  if  it  were 
not,  it  would  be  at  once  my  duty  and  my  privilege 
to  make  it  so." 

At  last  Abigail  Alice's  tormented  mind  was  at 
rest.  With  father  and  son  on  her  side,  what  had  she 


PREPARING  FOR  THE   STRUGGLE  407 

to  fear?  Peace  wiped  the  distress  from  her  face, 
and  she  smiled. 

"  You  are  a  high-minded,  noble  young  man,"  she 
declared,  "  and  God  will  surely  prosper  you.  John 
Strain,  if  you  never  do  anything  else  in  your  life, 
prove  Paul's  innocence.  I  don't  care  if  it  takes 
every  cent  we  have ;  it  must,  it  shall  be  done.  Oh,  I 
never  can  cease  from  blaming  myself  for  having 
encouraged  Adolph  in  the  bitter  hatred  which,  I 
suspect,  is  at  the  bottom  of  all  this  wrong." 

"  That  is  one  of  the  many  things  I  cannot  under 
stand,"  Paul  said  reflectively,  as  if  talking  to  him 
self.  "  Adolph  and  I  were  always  good  friends. 
Why,  then,  did  he  plot  against  me,  as  you  all  seem 
to  agree  he  did?  " 

"  He  was  after  the  money,  my  boy,"  John  Strain 
explained. 

"  Why,  it  is  his  and  willingly  for  all  of  me.  You 
don't  suppose  that  I  would  inherit  under  false  pre 
tences,  do  you?  He  might  have  felt  chagrined 
when  Edith's  death  seemed  to  give  it  all  to  me;  but 
if  he  had  only  waited,  why,  I  should  have  divided 
with  him.  And  now  —  when  every  one  knows  that 
I  am  not  Neil  Breen's  son,  can  he  think  for  one 
moment  —  " 

"  Hold  on  there,"  the  Governor  interrupted  with 
true  legal  caution ;  "  time  enough  to  give  your  prop 
erty  away  when  you've  got  it;  possession  lends  a 


408     THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

different  aspect  to  dreams  of  generosity,  I  assure 
you.  Besides,  there  can  be  no  question  of  false 
pretences  in  your  inheritance.  I  know,  I  know 
positively,  that  Neil  Breen,  when  he  made  his  will, 
was  aware  that  you  were  not  his  son.  I  think  he 
must  have  promised  Mar —  his  wife,  I  mean,  to 
give  you  some  sort  of  a  reversionary  interest." 

"  And  it  isn't  the  money  alone  that  incites 
Adolph,"  added  Mrs.  Strain.  "  It's  Constance 
Sanderson." 

"  There  it  is  again,"  Paul  sighed  in  his  remote, 
meditative  mood.  "  Why  should  my  pleasant  rela 
tions  with  Constance  enrage  him  ?  We  have  all  been 
good  comrades  together  for  years,  with  never  a 
thought  on  my  part  as  to  which  one  might  like  the 
other  better.  She  is  a  sort  of  a  sister  to  us  both,  I 
should  say  —  " 

"  Alas,  you  poor  boy !  "  murmured  Mrs.  Strain. 

John  Strain's  estimate  of  the  effects  of  Soci'ty 
Dan's  pardon  proved  to  be  judicially  moderate. 
When  the  event  occurred,  immediately  after  the 
joinder  of  issue  in  the  sensational  ejectment  suit  of 
Breen  versus  Breen,  the  popular  furor  against  him 
revived,  stimulated  by  the  artful  philippics  of  the 
"  Metropolitan  Ray  "  and  the  many  other  papers 
that  reflected  its  sinister  light.  Not  only  had  this 
man  Strain  abused  the  prerogative  of  his  high  office, 


PREPARING  FOR  THE   STRUGGLE  409 

but  he  was  conspiring  criminally  with  criminals  to 
divert  an  honored  inheritance  and  ruin  that  repre 
sentative  young  citizen,  Adolph  Breen.  The  few  of 
his  former  associates  who  remained  on  speaking 
terms  with  him  advised  him  that  his  only  hope  of 
success  lay  in  a  change  of  venue ;  but  they  disturbed 
not  a  whit  his  plans  for  the  campaign.  He  had 
crossed  the  river  of  decision;  he  was  on  the  march, 
chariot  and  foot.  A  change  of  venue?  It  was  a 
change  of  opinion  that  the  case  demanded;  and 
that  he  was  about  to  compel ! 


THE    CASE    AT    ISSUE 

THE  apathetic  clerk  was  calling  the  calendar,  the 
names  falling  from  his  lips  without  more  meaning 
to  him  than  if  they  were  the  figures  of  the  multipli 
cation-table.  Yet  each  title  met  with  its  own  re 
sponse  ;  each  coupling  of  parties  was  the  key-note  to 
some  long  comedy  or  tragedy,  some  farce  or  mys 
tery.  Tancredi,  as  he  sat  in  the  little  group  clustered 
about  Paul  Breen,  mused  on  the  singular  contrast 
between  the  demeanor  of  those  to  whom  the  court 
room  was  a  place  of  monotonous  toil  —  the  judge, 
the  lawyers,  the  attendants  —  and  those  to  whom  it 
was  the  arena  wherein  were  fought  out  the  battles  on 
which  all  depended,  whether  life,  honor  or  fortune 
was  the  stake.  To  how  many  was  this  dingy  room 
the  parting  of  the  ways,  from  which  diverged  paths 
of  glory  or  of  ruin.  By  a  singular  connection  of 
ideas,  Tancredi  was  reminded  of  a  day  he  had 
passed  in  the  Treasury  at  Washington,  where  he 
saw  men  handling  with  indifference  blocks  of  metal 
and  bits  of  printed  paper  that,  outside  that  magic 

410 


THE   CASE   AT   ISSUE  411 

realm,  became  the  root  of  all  evil.  So,  here,  he  sat 
watching  the  men  who  operated  the  mighty  machin 
ery  of  the  law  as  if  its  terrible  potentialities  were 
but  a  dream  of  fiction.  From  such  fanciful  musings 
he  was  recalled  by  the  names  that  touched  him  to 
the  quick : 

"  Breen  vs.  Breen." 

John  Strain  rose  in  his  place,  and,  with  a  slight 
bow  to  the  bench,  said,  in  a  conversational  tone: 

"  We  are  ready,  if  your  Honor  please.  -I  appear 
for  the  plaintiff,  Paul  Breen." 

Mr.  Carrington,  who  sat  a  few  feet  away,  also 
rose. 

"  We  are  ready  for  the  defendant,"  he  added. 

Then  began  a  brief  discussion  between  judge  and 
lawyers  of  which  Tancredi  could  gather  only  the 
general  purport.  He  understood  that  Mr.  Strain 
was  maintaining  that  the  trial  would  require  at  least 
one  day;  while  Mr.  Carrington,  Adolph's  counsel, 
was  equally  as  confident  that  it  could  be  settled  in 
a  few  hours.  The  judge  listened  with  a  wandering 
eye,  but  with  an  attentive  brain,  and  apparently  in 
clined  to  Strain's  view,  for  he  soon  directed  a  court- 
officer  to  proclaim  that  all  who  were  unconnected 
with  "  Breen  vs.  Breen  "  might  depart  until  further 
notice.  Then,  with  a  shuffling  of  feet,  the  exiled 
litigants,  lawyers  and  witnesses  filed  out ;  and  those 
who  were  to  contest  the  issue  in  "  Breen  vs.  Breen  " 


412     THE    CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

made  themselves  at  home  by  a  choosing  of  the 
vacated  places. 

John  Strain  and  his  legal  adversary  seemed  sud 
denly  to  become  of  new  importance,  for  they 
glanced  over  their  respective  forces  as  generals 
upon  a  battlefield  might  view  the  disposition  of  their 
squadrons  and  battalions.  Each  had  chosen  a  part 
of  the  long  table  that  paralleled  the  front  of  the 
Judge's  desk,  and  was  untying  bundles  of  papers, 
and  adjusting  them  as  if  they  were  the  weapons  to 
be  caught  up  in  an  instant  and  used  for  parry  or 
for  thrust  —  and  so,  indeed,  they  were.  The  jury, 
having  been  caught  and  caged,  stood  up  to  be 
sworn,  and  then  subsided  again,  relieved,  yet  fear 
ful  that  they  might  not  be  able  to  follow  the  ex 
pected  proceedings. 

All  this  was  but  the  marshalling  of  the  lists,  and 
in  no  wise  lessened  the  suspense  of  the  parties  to 
the  trial.  Adolph  Breen,  though  he  had  tipped  back 
his  chair  with  an  air  of  indifference,  and  was  scrib 
bling  meaningless  scrawls  on  a  scrap  of  paper,  yet 
watched  his  former  partner,  John  Strain,  with  an 
intensity  of  interest  he  could  not  disguise.  Paul 
seemed  at  ease  and  the  least  excited  of  any  in  the 
room.  John  Strain  wore  an  impassive  look;  but 
there  was  a  new  calmness,  an  inevitableness  in  his 
actions  that  marked  the  advocate  whose  soul  is  in 
his  cause.  Mr.  Carrington,  with  a  veteran's  disci- 


THE   CASE   AT   ISSUE  413 

pline,  showed  an  assurance  that  brought  to  Tan- 
credi  a  sickening  fear  of  defeat. 

Then  came  a  pause.  The  rustling  of  papers 
ceased.  Every  whisper  was  hushed.  The  judge 
leaned  slightly  toward  Strain,  and  smiled  permis 
sion  to  begin.  That  eminent  counsel,  thereupon, 
rose  and  made  his  opening  without  agitation  and 
in  the  same  low  tone  he  had  used  in  answering  the 
call  of  the  case.  He  spoke  slowly,  simply,  but  with 
evident  care  in  the  choice  of  his  words. 

"  May  it  please  the  Court ;  Gentlemen  of  the 
Jury,"  he  began  in  formal  parlance.  "  This  is,  ac 
cording  to  the  pleadings,  a  suit  in  ejectment.  My 
client,  Paul  Breen,  as  plaintiff  claims  title  to  a  cer 
tain  property  now  in  possession  of  Adolph  Breen, 
the  defendant.  This  property,  the  Oriole  Farm, 
is  part  of  the  estate  of  which  the  late  Neil  Breen 
died  seized,  and  with  the  rest  was  devised  by  him 
by  means  of  a  will  to  two  members  of  his  household, 
Edith  Breen  and  Paul  Breen.  The  will,  duly 
proved,  gave  the  use  of  the  property  jointly  to 
these  two  children  during  their  minority.  There 
was  a  clause  providing  that,  in  case  of  Edith's  death, 
unmarried,  during  her  minority,  Paul  was  to  in 
herit  the  whole  estate.  Edith  Breen  did  die,  unmar 
ried,  when  about  fifteen  years  of  age;  and  my 
client,  Paul  Breen,  still  surviving  and  here  present, 
claims  the  said  estate  under  the  terms  of  said  will. 


414      THE   CASE  OF  PAUL   BREEN 

"  I  offer  in  evidence  a  certified  copy  of  the  will  of 
Neil  Breen,  and  the  record  of  its  probate." 

John  Strain  handed  the  papers  to  the  clerk  of  the 
Court,  and  then  turned  to  Mr.  Carrington. 

"  There  is  no  dispute  as  to  the  death  of  Edith 
Breen,  unmarried  and  before  her  majority?"  he 
asked. 

"  It  is  or  should  be  admitted  in  our  answer,"  was 
the  reply. 

"  Then,"  said  Strain,  quietly  seating  himself, 
"  that  is  our  case,  and  we  ask  judgment." 

Mr.  Carrington  arose  in  turn,  and,  after  the  usual 
complimentary  phrases  to  court  and  jury,  made  the 
equally  conventional  motions  to  dismiss  the  com 
plaint,  received  the  judge's  denial  with  the  usual 
remark,  "  I  take  an  exception,  if  your  Honor 
please,"  and  then  proceeded  to  the  solid  matter  of 
his  defence. 

"  Your  Honor  and  Gentlemen  of  the  Jury,"  he 
said,  with  a  deepening  'of  tone,  and  a  severity  of 
expression  that  at  once  warned  his  hearers  of  the 
real  beginning  of  the  grapple  that  would  result  in 
the  overthrow  of  one  side  or  the  other ;  "  behind 
the  courteous  phrases  of  the  law  lie  the  malign  pas 
sions  of  human  nature.  The  legal  fiction  that  would 
make  the  Temple  of  Justice  a  cold,  calm  and  dis 
passionate  tribunal  requires  that  we  should  admit 
the  formal  truth  of  the  case  presented  by  my  learned 


THE   CASE  AT  ISSUE  415 

friend.  We  do  not,  therefore,  deny  the  will  of  Neil 
Breen,  nor  dispute  its  terms.  We  admit  that  before 
Edith  Breen  had  married,  or  indeed  come  to  her 
maturity  of  womanhood,  she  had  ceased  to  live. 
But,  under  the  guise  of  truth,  we  shall  unmask  to 
you  the  hideous  form  of  murder;  and,  in  him  who 
presents  himself  in  the  attractive  part  of  a  wronged 
plaintiff,  we  shall  reveal  to  you  the  bloody-handed 
murderer  whose  malice,  whose  deadly  avarice,  has 
struck  down  the  sister  in  her  young  maidenhood 
that  he  might  gain  the  property  which  her  father, 
by  solemn  instrument  and  for  the  very  best  of  rea 
sons,  had  provided  should  be  hers.  And  this  villain 
ous  claimant  has  not  even  the  grace  of  hypocrisy. 
He  comes  before  you  without  even  so  much  confi 
dence  as  might  rest  upon  a  crime  concealed  within 
his  own  conscience.  He  comes  to  you  branded  a 
murderer  by  the  hand  of  avenging  Justice ;  and  yet 
dares  demand  in  her  very  presence  the  fruits  of  his 
crime. 

"  Such  is  the  felon,  Paul  Breen.  It  staggers 
human  credulity  that  there  should  be  found  effront 
ery  so  terrible,  indifference  so  callous.  The  minis 
ters  of  the  law,  however,  have  learned  of  what 
degradation  humanity  is  capable;  they  have  been 
taught,  in  defending  the  right  against  the  powers 
of  evil,  that  there  are  no  depths  to  which  the  vicious 
may  not  descend  in  attempting  to  carry  out  their 


416      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

devilish  purposes.  And,  so,  the  law  has  provided 
against  even  the  depravity  that  would  make  of  foul 
murder  a  stepping-stone  to  wealth.  The  law,  gen 
tlemen,  has  decreed  that  the  criminal  shall  not  profit 
by  his  crime.  The  law  declares  that,  whoever  may 
enjoy  the  property  of  the  dead,  it  shall  not  be  held 
by  the  ensanguined  hand  that  is  red  with  the  blood 
of  its  former  owner. 

"  The  law,  gentlemen  ?  There  is  a  higher  law 
than  that  of  precedents,  of  statutes,  of  codes,  of 
treatises.  There  is  the  law  of  the  human  soul  —  the 
law  that  underlies  and  creates  all  others;  and  this 
law  is  God-implanted  in  our  very  hearts,  needing 
neither  legislation  nor  judicial  pronouncement.  It 
existed  before  the  foundations  of  the  world.  It  for 
bids  the  murderer  to  slay  that  he  may  plunder.  It 
sternly  says  to  the  criminal :  *  Thou  shalt  not 
profit  by  thy  deed  of  violence.'  This  law  we  now 
invoke.  Paul  Breen  was  suspected,  apprehended, 
accused,  indicted,  tried,  convicted  and  sentenced  for 
the  murder  of  this  child  —  this  Edith  Breen.  Died 
before  maturity?  Yes — :  she  was  murdered  in  her 
youth,  murdered  by  the  son  of  her  mother  that  he 
might  inherit  the  wealth  to  which  nature  herself 
had  denied  him  title.  Gentlemen,  murder  is  always 
foul  and  abhorrent ;  but  it  is  most  foul  and  most 
abhorrent  when  greedy  avarice  sharpens  the  knife 
and  cool  calculation  drives  it  home." 


THE   CASE  AT  ISSUE  417 

Mr.  Carrington  paused  and  searched  a  moment 
among  the  papers  that  lay  before  him.  Then  he  in 
turn  handed  a  document  to  the  clerk. 

"  Your  Honor,"  he  said,  "  we  offer  in  evidence 
a  copy  of  the  record  in  the  case  of  '  The  State  vs. 
Paul  Breen,'  with  certificates  of  his  sentence  and 
incarceration  thereunder." 

Then,  turning  to  John  Strain,  the  attorney  for 
the  defendant  asked  in  scorn : 

"  There  is  no  dispute  as  to  these  records  ?  " 

"  None,"  Strain  answered  politely. 

"  The  Court  takes  judicial  notice  of  the  proceed 
ings,"  the  Judge  added. 

"  Then,  we  rest  our  case,"  was  the  reply ;  and 
Mr.  Carrington  sat  down. 

John  Strain  advanced  with  another  document. 

"  Your  Honor,"  he  began,  "  we  offer  in  evidence 
a  full  and  unconditional  pardon,  granted  and  issued 
by  the  Governor  of  this  State  to  Paul  Breen,  and 
covering  the  alleged  crime  to  which  my  learned 
friend  has  seen  fit  to  refer.  I  will  not,  in  making 
proffer  of  this  paper,  trespass  upon  the  indulgence 
of  the  Court  by  rising  —  or  descending  —  into  the 
regions  of  oratory.  No  one  disputes  or  denies  the 
justice,  of  the  legal  maxim  so  forcibly  presented  by 
the  defendant's  eloquent  counsel ;  but  it  is  the  ex 
perience  of  all  mankind  that  even  the  judicial  er 
mine  or  the  sacred  function  of  the  jury  is  no  war- 


418     THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

ranty  against  human  error.  The  same  collective 
wisdom  that  created  the  maxim  he  has  quoted  also 
has  told  us  that  it  is  but  human  to  err.  And,  there 
fore,  the  makers  of  our  laws  have  entrusted  to  the 
chief  ruler  of  the  State  power  to  annul  the  processes 
of  its  courts.  This  power  has  been  exercised,  and 
Paul  Breen  stands  before  you  recreated  by  the  same 
legal  authority  that  —  erroneously  we  believe  — 
destroyed  him.  Yet  we  do  not  claim  that  this 
recreation,  this  pardon,  could  have  higher  sanction 
than  the  right.  We  admit  that  the  criminal  should 
not  profit  by  his  own  wrong.  We  reply  only  — 
'  Here  is  no  criminal ;  here  is  the  victim  of  a  judicial 
error.'  That  error  admitted  of  but  one  correction, 
and  that  correction  has  been  applied.  Paul  Breen 
comes  before  this  tribunal  a  claimant  of  his  rights 
as  an  innocent  man.  He  offers  in  evidence  his  par 
don,  not  as  a  defence  against  the  accusation  of 
crime,  but  as  a  reply  to  the  assertion  that  he  is  in 
capable  of  denying  the  crime.  He  admits  that  he 
should  not  profit  by  a  crime ;  but  he  denies  the 
crime.  The  pardon  brings  him  before  you  cleared 
of  condemnation,  not  of  guilt,  if  guilt  existed. 

"  Prove  the  guilt,  and  we  admit  it  a  defence  to 
our  claim  to  the  property.  But  plead  only  the  rec 
ord,  and  we  rejoin  with  the  pardon.  Technically 
speaking,  your  Honor,  we  offer  the  pardon  in  bar 
of  the  judgment  of  conviction  as  a  disqualification; 


THE   CASE  AT  ISSUE  419 

not  as  a  bar  to  an  offer  to  prove  a  crime  as  render 
ing  the  one  who  committed  it  incapable  of  profiting 
by  it.  We  stand  or  fall  by  the  maxim  they  them 
selves  have  invoked.  The  pardon  has  made  the 
conviction  a  nullity.  It  cannot  be  pleaded  as  a 
proof  of  moral  guilt.  Non  constat  but  that  it  was 
known  to  the  Governor  to  be  a  judicial  error." 

"  We  are  willing  to  meet  that  issue  right  now," 
said  the  attorney  for  the  defendant,  with  a  venom 
ous  smile  at  Strain. 

"  I  shall  object,"  Strain  went  on  tranquilly. 
"  We  do  not  claim  to  review  the  trial,  and  we  do 
deny  your  right  to  review  the  pardon.  Let  "your 
judgment-record  and  the  pardon  be  considered  a 
satisfied  equation.  We  deny  the  guilt,  and  object  to 
the  offer  of  the  judgment-record  as  competent  to 
prove  it  at  any  period  subsequent  to  the  issue  of  the 
pardon." 

John  Strain  resumed  his  seat,  with  arms  folded 
and  eyes  fixed  on  the  judge.  His  Honor  was  silent 
for  a  moment  or  two,  drumming  on  his  desk  noise 
lessly.  Then  Mr.  Carrington,  after  a  whispered 
word  with  Adolph,  craved  the  indulgence  of  a  brief 
consultation  with  his  client.  Strain  gave  a  sigh  of 
relief  as  he  heard  this  request;  for  no  one  in  the 
court-room,  unless  it  was  the  judge  himself,  knew 
with  what  slender  confidence  he  had  urged  his  last 
plea.  But  now  it  seemed  as  if  its  adroit  appeal  to 


420      THE    CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

Adolph's  passions  would  succeed,  despite  Mr.  Car- 
rington's  keen  comprehension  of  its  sophistries. 
And  so,  indeed,  it  proved. 

"  What,  Adolph,"  protested  that  adroit  coun 
sellor,  when  he  was  apart  with  his  client,  "  you 
don't  mean  to  let  them  throw  upon  us  the  burden 
of  proving  Paul  Breen's  guilt ;  why,  it  is  preposter 
ous!" 

"  I  do  mean  exactly  that,"  replied  Adolph  dog 
gedly.  "  How  else  then  can  it  be  determined  ?  Am 
I  the  sort  of  a  man,  standing  as  I  do  before  the  pub 
lic  as  a  candidate  for  political  preferment,  to  take 
this  immense  fortune  on  a  technicality  ?  I  want  this 
thing  settled  now  and  for  all  time.  Why,  I  have 
been  preparing  for  just  such  a  jcontingency.  Our 
evidence  is  much  stronger  than  the  people's  case  at 
the  former  trial;  besides,  I  have  got  something  up 
my  sleeve  that  will  sicken  them,  if  only  Strain  gives 
me  the  lead,  as  I  think  he  will.  We  want  to  crush 
them,  not  elude  them.  So  go  ahead,  I  say,  and  call 
their  hand.  Of  course,  the  issue  is  Paul's  guilt. 
He  murdered  my  little  cousin;  and,  damn  him,  he 
must  bear  the  consequences !  " 

"  Very  well,  Danton,"  agreed  Mr.  Carrington 
with  a  smile ;  "  perhaps  audacity  is  our  best  policy 
after  all ; "  and  the  next  moment,  with  courtly 
phrase,  he  was  thanking  the  Judge  for  the  indul 
gence  accorded  him. 


THE   CASE   AT   ISSUE  421 

"  This  is  an  extraordinary  case,  your  Honor,"  he 
continued,  "  extraordinary  in  the  desperate  devices 
resorted  to,  first  to  liberate  this  criminal  and  now 
to  enrich  him;  and  what  might  otherwise  be  deemed 
an  extraordinary  remedy  becomes  a  most  proper 
one,  if  only  through  applying  it  the  truth  can  be 
made  manifest  beyond  hope  of  future  cavil  or  con 
tradiction.  Therefore  we  rely  upon  no  legal  form, 
no  mere  legal  defence.  We  accept  the  gage  that 
has  been  thrown  at  our  feet.  Though  this  learned 
Court  could  need  no  assistance  from  us  in  piercing 
through  the  pretence  that  would  make  this  convic 
tion  a  nullity,  we  will  take  the  affirmative.  We  will 
prove,  here  and  now,  that  Paul  Breen  is  not  an  in 
nocent  man,  claiming  his  lawful  right.  We  will 
prove,  once  for  all,  that  he  is  a  red-handed  mur 
derer,  striving  to  filch  the  fruits  of  his  crime.  It 
is  my  client's  wish  to  avoid  the  benefit  of  technical 
ities.  It  is  my  client's  sacred  duty  to  affix  once 
more  upon  that  dishonored  brow  the  brand  of  Cain. 
I  yield  to  his  noble  resolution.  This  is  no  longer 
a  question  of  titles,  of  goods  and  of  chattels;  but 
a  question  whether  or  not  this  plaintiff,  not  having 
the  fear  of  God  in  his  heart,  but  moved  and  insti 
gated  by  the  devil,  did  murder  that  poor,  innocent, 
unoffending  child,  Edith  Breen,  his  half-sister.  If 
he  did,  if  this  jury  shall  decide  as  another  jury  of 
equal  intelligence  and  worth  has  already  decided, 


422      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

then  it  follows,  as  an  inevitable  consequence,  that 
the  inheritance  shall  remain  where  it  now  is,  in  the 
legitimate  line  of  descent;  and  that  the  doubly- 
convicted  miscreant  shall  wander  over  the  face  of 
earth,  unharmed  of  men,  yet  finding  God's  punish 
ment  harder  than  he  can  bear." 

With  the  aplomb  of  a  true  lawyer,  Carrington 
turned  from  his  impassioned  peroration  to  settle  as 
far  as  possible  with  the  opposing  counsel  what  facts 
might  be  taken  as  proved.  After  a  brief  talk,  Mr. 
Strain  thus  laid  their  conclusions  before  the  Court. 

"  It  is  the  desire  of  my  client,"  he  declared,  "  to 
bring  out  as  fully  and  completely  every  fact,  bear 
ing  in  any  way  upon  the  mystery  of  the  death  of 
Edith  Breen,  as  even  our  adversaries  can  pretend 
to  wish.  As  to  certain  of  these  facts  there  is  no  dis 
pute.  It  is  admitted  that  this  young  girl's  body  was 
found  amid  the  debris  of  the  accident  to  the  cars. 
It  is  admitted  that  a  trunk  belonging  to  the  plaintiff 
was  in  the  same  car,  and  that  this  trunk  was  shipped 
by  him,  directed  to  himself  at  the  Central  Station 
in  Carteret.  It  is  alleged  on  the  part  of  the  defend 
ant  that  my  client  murdered  the  unfortunate  girl, 
and  that  her  dead  body  was  concealed  within  that 
trunk  when  he  took  it  from  the  house  where  they 
both  lived.  This  we  deny,  and  put  them  upon  their 
proofs." 

So,  at  length,  the  issue  was  joined;    and  Adolph 


THE   CASE  AT  ISSUE  423 

Breen,  as  he  took  his  seat  by  Mr.  Carrington's  side, 
felt  his  heart  beating  exultantly,  his  blood  throb 
bing  fiercely,  with  the  joys  of  confident  conflict  and 
the  lust  of  final  triumph.  As  he  had  told  his  lawyer, 
he  was  convinced  that  his  case,  as  prepared,  would 
overwhelm  Paul.  This,  in  itself,  was  a  sufficient 
reason. with  him  for  throwing  away,  with  apparent 
recklessness,  an  advantage  in  the  struggle.  But  a 
secret,  more  intimate  purpose  had  urged  him  on 
with  far  greater  force.  His  proofs  were  to  win  for 
him  not  only  an  estate,  but  a  woman's  heart. 
Though  he  counted  on  a  legal  verdict,  that  was  as 
nothing  compared  with  the  verdict  he  should  also 
win  from  Constance  Sanderson's  eyes.  Unless  Paul 
was  destroyed  before  the  tribunal  of  her  soul,  mere 
material  victory  would  be  empty  and  inane.  For 
such  a  stroke  he  would  joyously  assume  any  risk; 
and  for  it  now  he  had  come  out  into  the  open  and 
flung  away  his  shield. 


CHAPTER    XXIX 


"  WE  call  Mrs.  Philip  Breen,"  said  Mr.  Carring- 
ton;  and  Adolph  led  his  mother,  in  her  widow's 
weeds,  to  the  stand. 

Mrs.  Breen's  evidence  was  largely  a  repetition  of 
what  it  had  been  at  the  former  trial.  She  told  of 
various  conversations  which  seemed  to  show  a  lack 
of  sympathy  and  even  a  certain  antipathy  between 
Paul  and  Edith.  She  repeated  with  more  detail  her 
own  talk  with  Paul,  wherein  he  had  said :  —  "  She 
interferes  with  my  whole  life.  She  is  an  obstacle. 
Let  her  keep  her  distance,  if  she  knows  what  is  good 
for  her.  I  will  not  be  responsible  if  she  does  not." 
She  described  Paul's  angry  manner,  and  Edith's 
fright  at  his  threats.  She  then  testified  to  his  lack 
of  feeling  and  strange  behavior  when  the  girl's 
death  was  discovered. 

"  Mrs.  Breen,  what  was  the  nature  of  the  work 
done  by  Paul  in  the  attic  room?  "  John  Strain  asked 
on  cross-examination. 

"  I  don't  know  exactly.  Something  scientific. 
424 


STORY  OF  THE   WITNESSES      425 

He  was  always  interested  in  such  matters.  He  did 
experiments  with  chemicals  and  with  an  electric 
battery,  I  think." 

"  Was  there  anything  dangerous  about  the  work 
he  did?" 

"  I  think  he  had  some  explosions.  I  remember 
hearing  some  noise  of  that  kind  several  times." 

"  Did  he  ever  speak  of  any  danger  from  them?  " 

"  Yes,  sir ;  he  asked  me  to  warn  the  servants  and 
the  family  not  to  meddle  with  his  things.  He  said 
there  might  be  trouble  if  they  did." 

"  Did  he  speak  especially  of  any  member  of  the 
family?" 

"  Yes ;  he  spoke  of  Edith.  He  said  she  was  a 
Paul  Pry,  and  asked  me  to  forbid  her  to  go  to  his 
attic  room." 

"Did  she  go  there  after  the  warning?" 

"  I  don't  know.  She  used  to  run  about  the  house 
everywhere.  She  was  always  restless  and  curious 
about  everything  that  went  on." 

'  You  speak  of  her  as  restless.  Did  she  ever  do 
anything  to  show  this  disposition?  " 

"You  mean»about  running  away?" 

"  Anything  you  remember." 

"  Well,  she  ran  away  from  home  several  times, 
even  when  she  was  little.  Then  she  wouldn't  stay 
at  school,  but  ran  away,  and  came  home  again." 

''  Was  there  any  reason  you  can  give  why  she 


426        THE   CASE   OF  PAUL  BREEN 

shouldn't  have  been  contented  at  home?  Did  she 
complain  of  ill-treatment  in  any  way  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,  she  seemed  to  wish  to  go  about  and  see 
things,  that's  all.  She  was  adventurous  and  bold." 

"  Now,  returning  to  the  day  you  heard  her  spoken 
to  angrily  by  Paul  Breen,  where  was  she  then  ?  " 

"  In  the  attic  somewhere." 

"  Near  the  laboratory  ?  " 

"  It  may  be ;    I  don't  know." 

"  Did  you  think  at  the  time  that  Paul  was  threat 
ening  her,  or  that  he  was  warning  her  of  a  possible 
danger?  " 

"  I  don't  remember.  I  thought  he  was  nervous 
and  impatient  with  her." 

"  Because  she  was  near  his  room  ?  " 

"  I  object,"  interrupted  Mr.  Carrington.  "  It  is 
incompetent." 

"  Your  Honor,"  Strain  argued,  "  this  testimony 
is  offered  to  prove  threatening  language.  I  wish 
to  show  that  the  language  was  a  warning  rather 
than  a  threat.  The  words  themselves  are  equally 
consistent  with  either  theory,  and  I  wish  therefore 
to  show  by  this  witness  that  the  manner  of  their 
speech  or  delivery  was  such  as  might  go  with  a 
warning.  She  has  already  sworn  that  such  a  warn 
ing  was  in  my  client's  mind." 

"  I  think  the  question  is  proper,"  said  the  Court. 
"  Go  on." 


STORY  OF  THE   WITNESSES      427 

"  Did  Paul  speak  as  if  he  was  threatening  Edith, 
or  as  if  afraid  she  might  meet  with  some  dan 
ger?" 

"  I  thought  he  was  afraid  she  might  be  hurt,  and 
wanted  her  to  keep  away." 

"That  will  do,"  said  John  Strain;  and  Mrs. 
Breen  left  the  stand. 

Matilda  Grafton,  after  some  preliminary  testi 
mony  as  to  her  duties  and  employment  as  a  maid 
in  the  Breen  household,  came  to  the  morning  of  the 
death  of  Edith. 

"  I  was  working,"  she  said,  "  in  the  third  story 
of  the  house,  and  in  the  room  just  below  Mr.  Paul's 
labertory,  as  they  called  it.  It  was  very  early, 
about  an  hour  or  hour  and  a  half  before  breakfast, 
maybe  half  past  six  or  so.  I  remember  the  day  well 
because  of  what  happened  after.  I  heard  a  bump 
ing  on  the  stairs,  and,  as  the  door  wasn't  quite  shut, 
I  looked  out  and  seen  Paul  Breen  taking  a  trunk 
down.  I  was  surprised  to  see  him  that  early.  He 
must  have  gone  out  the  front  door  'cause  I  seen  him 
after  on  the  lawn  going  to  the  stables.  I  was  at  the 
window.  Then  he  came  out  in  a  light  wagon,  and 
went  down  the  road.  I  seen  him  no  more  that 
morning,  'cause  I  went  to  breakfast  in  the  kitchen." 

"  We  have  already  admitted  the  shipping  of  the 
trunk,"  said  John  Strain. 

"A   moment,    Mr.    Strain,"    returned    Adolph's 


428      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

counsel.  "  This  witness  can  testify  to  another  mat 
ter.  Now,  Miss  Grafton,  if  you  please,  just  tell  the 
Judge  and  Jury,  in  your  own  language,  what  you 
know  of  the  clothes  in  the  suit-case." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  Matilda  answered,  brightening  vis 
ibly.  "  I  was  a-coming  to  that.  About  maybe  a 
week  or  so  before  that  day,  I  was  looking  in  the 
attic  for  a  strap  Mrs.  Breen  wanted,  when  I  saw 
an  old  suit-case  that  used  to  belong  to  Mr.  Paul 
and  I  tried  to  take  one  from  off  it.  Well,  the  case 
came  open,  and  I  saw  there  was  a  suit  of  clothes  in 
it.  I  spread  them  out,  to  see  had  they  been  for 
gotten  by  somebody,  and  I  saw  they  was  nearly 
new." 

"  What  size  were  they  ?  " 

"  Too  small  for  a  man  like  Mr.  Paul  or  Mr. 
Adolph,  and  too  big  for  a  small  boy.  They  was 
dark  gray  woollen,  and  nearly  new." 

"  Do  you  think  you  would  know  the  cloth  if  you 
saw  a  piece  of  it  again?  " 

"  Yes,  sir ;    I'm  'most  sure  I  would." 

;<  Then  examine  this  piece,"  continued  Mr.  Car- 
rington,  handing  her  a  bit  of  gray  cloth.  "  Is  that 
like  it?" 

"  Yes,  sir;  I  know  it  by  the  queer  red-line 
check." 

"  I  shall  offer  this  bit  of  cloth  in  evidence  pres 
ently,"  said  Mr.  Carrington. 


STORY   OF  THE   WITNESSES       429 

"  Let  me  see  it,"  demanded  John  Strain.  He 
took  the  cloth,  examined  it,  and  then  returned  it, 
asking,  "  What  do  you  wish  to  show  ?  " 

"  This,"  Mr.  Carrington  answered,  "  is  a  piece 
of  the  cloth  found  upon  the  body  of  Edith  Breen 
after  the  accident.  It  will  be  identified  by  the  cor 
oner  and  by  Mr.  Adolph  Breen.  We  shall  show 
that  a  suit  made  of  this  cloth,  and  similar  to  the 
one  described  by  this  witness,  was  bought  by  Paul 
Breen  a  short  time  before  it  was  found  on  the  body 
of  Edith.  Call  Mr.  Zeiger." 

Mr.  Zeiger  came  to  the  stand,  identified  the  cloth, 
and  a  button  that  was  attached  to  it,  as  part  of  a 
suit  made  according  to  measurements  furnished  by 
Paul  Breen.  He  read  the  measurements  from  his 
books. 

John  Strain  turned  to  Paul  and  inquired  in  an 
undertone  whether  he  remembered  anything  of  such 
an  occurrence.  Paul  tried  to  think,  but  could  say 
only  that  he  had  often  executed  commissions  for 
Edith  at  a  time  when  she  was  interested  in  work 
among  the  poor.  Upon  this  hint,  Strain  cross- 
examined  Mr.  Zeiger  and  brought  out  the  fact  that 
Paul  had  ordered  various  garments  from  him,  at 
different  times,  and  that  these  were  such  as  would 
fit  persons  of  widely  differing  dimensions,  and  that 
some  of  them  were  fitted  by  him  to  poor  men  or 
boys  who  had  been  sent  to  his  shop  to  be  measured. 


430        THE   CASE   OF   PAUL  BREEN 

The  witness   was   then  dismissed  from  the  stand 
and  gave  place  to  Adolph  Breen. 

Adolph's  demeanor  was  serious,  and  he  testified 
with  much  care,  choosing  his  words  deliberately, 
but  yet  with  apparent  frankness  and  fulness.  He 
told  of  his  attendance  at  the  inquest,  and  identified 
the  bit  of  clothing.  He  also  went  over  again  his 
conversation  with  Paul  on  the  day  of  Edith's  disap 
pearance  —  telling  of  Paul's  confusion,  his  refusal 
or  pretended  inability  to  account  for  his  actions,  and 
the  fact  that  he  had  laudanum  among  the  chemicals 
and  drugs  in  his  laboratory.  He  told  of  the  blood 
washed  by  Paul  from  his  head,  and  of  the  ab 
sence  of  any  wound  from  which  it  might  have 
come. 

"  The  witness  is  yours,  Mr.  Strain,"  said  Car- 
rington. 

John  Strain  rose  slowly,  scrutinizing  the  witness 
in  silence.  Had  he  followed  his  instinct  as  a  law 
yer  he  would  have  declined  to  cross-examine  one 
at  once  hostile,  unscrupulous  and  well-trained  in 
forensic  defences.  And  yet  he  was  satisfied,  not 
only  from  Phineas  Twigg's  warning,  but  from  his 
own  corroboration  of  it,  that  Adolph  had  lied  in  his 
testimony  at  this  and  the  former  trial.  Besides,  his 
investigations  had  revealed  certain  acts  of  the  young 
man,  discreditable  on  their  face,  and  in  any  event 
showing  a  strong  bias  against  Paul.  Was  it  not  his 


STORY  OF  THE  WITNESSES       431 

duty  to  bring  these  at  least  to  the  attention  of  the 
Jury? 

"  After  the  plaintiff's  imprisonment,  Mr.  Breen," 
he  began,  "  did  you  visit  the  prison  where  he  was 
confined  ?  " 

"  I  did,"  replied  Adolph  gravely. 

"  For  what  purpose?  " 

"  To  see  the  warden." 

"  Did  you  deliver  any  document  to  the  war 
den?" 

"  Yes ;    an  order  from  the  Governor." 

"  What  was  its  nature?  " 

"  It  was  an  order  to  retain  certain  letters  ad 
dressed  to  the  convict,  Paul  Breen  —  so  called." 

"  You  say  it  was  the  Governor's  order  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Who  was  the  Governor?  " 

"  You  were." 

"  Did  I  sign  such  an  order  ?  " 

'  You  did  —  in  my  presence." 

"Did  I  read  the  order?" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  about  that  —  you  signed 
it." 

"  Who  made  out  the  order  ?  " 

"  I  did." 

"  By  whose  request  ?  " 

"  Under  my  general  discretion  as  your  partner 
and  confidant,  as  I  have  acted  in  a  hundred  other 


432      THE    CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

instances.  I  do  not  remember  whether  I  explained 
its  purpose  at  the  time  or  not,  but  I  will  gladly  do 
so  now,  if  I  may  be  permitted." 

"  Certainly;   that  is  what  we  want." 

"  My  purpose  was  to  break  off  the  engagement  or 
connection  between  this  Paul  Breen  and  a  young 
woman  who  was  writing  to  him.  She  had  refused 
to  look  upon  his  conviction  as  a  cessation  to  their 
engagement,  and  was  jeopardizing  her  future  by  her 
infatuation  for  him.  As  you,  the  District  Attorney, 
who  had  prosecuted  him,  had  but  lately  stood  in  the 
position  of  her  guardian,  practically,  such  solicitude 
on  your  part  was  eminently  proper." 

"  How  about  yourself  ?  Had  you  been  paying 
attentions  to  this  same  young  woman?  " 

Adolph  flushed  angrily  and  glanced  at  Mr.  Car- 
rington.  The  lawyer  at  once  interposed  an  objec 
tion,  which  was  sustained. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Breen,"  John  Strain  continued,  "  do 
you  recognize, this  book?  " 

Adolph  took  the  little  silver-bound  note-book,  and 
looked  it  over  carefully. 

"  No,"  he  answered,  "  I  never  saw  it  before ;  but 
I  have  heard  of  it.  I  think  it  belonged  to  your  son 
—  I  beg  pardon,  to  your  client." 

"  You  need  no  pardon,  Mr.  Breen,  when  you  tell 
the  truth.  Did  you  ever  make  any  inquiries  about 
that  book  —  of  any  person  ?  " 


STORY   OF  THE   WITNESSES        433 

"  Yes ;   I  made  inquiries  of  a  pawnbroker." 

"  What  interest  had  you  in  it  ?  " 

"  Your  Honor,"  Mr.  Carrington  interrupted,  "  I 
object  to  further  waste  of  time  with  these  irrelevant 
questions.  Wrhat  foundation  has  been  laid  for 
them?" 

"  This  book,"  Strain  contended,  "  was  the  prop 
erty  of  Paul  Breen,  and  was  pawned  on  the  day  of 
Edith  Breen's  death.  It  was  redeemed,  when  put 
up  for  sale,  by  the  fiancee  of  Paul  Breen,  and  this 
witness  has  shown  great  eagerness  to  obtain  pos 
session  of  it.  We  hope  to  trace  the  book  from  the 
hands  of  Paul  Breen  to  the  pawnbroker,  believing 
it  will  throw  light  on  the  case.  As  evidence  in  chief 
it  may  be  out  of  its  order;  but  it  certainly  is  com 
petent  as  showing  the  witness's  bias,  his  credi 
bility  —  " 

"  With  my  counsel's  permission,  I  will  gladly 
answer  the  question,"  Adolph  broke  in,  with  a  bow 
to  the  Judge  and  to  Mr.  Carrington.  "  It  was  this 
way.  I  happened  to  see  the  young  woman  who  re 
deemed  this  pledge  coming  from  the  pawnshop,  and 
out  of  this  same  solicitude  for  her  —  to  save  her 
from  so  disgraceful  a  suitor  —  I  made  inquiries  as 
to  her  errand." 

"  Did  you  take  any  steps  toward  gaining  posses 
sion  of  this  book?  " 

Adolph       scowled,       and      then       said :   —  "I 


434       THE    CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

took  such  steps  as  I  thought  would  be  effect 
ive." 

"  Did  you  try  to  steal  it?" 

"  Come,  come,"  the  Judge  protested  mildly,  "  you 
must  know  this  is  irregular,  Mr.  Strain." 

"  I  withdraw  the  question,"  said  Strain.  "  Of 
course  I  can't  expect  the  witness  to  incriminate 
himself.  Now,  Mr.  Breen,  as  a  result  of  the  death 
of  Edith  Breen,  and  the  conviction  of  Paul  Breen 
of  her  murder,  what  became  of  the  estate  of  Neil 
Breen?" 

"  It  was  vested  by  the  Courts  in  my  father,  and 
by  his  death  became  my  property." 

"You  still  hold  it?" 

"  I  do,  by  the  laws  of  God  and  of  man ;  and  Satan 
himself  shall  not  prevail  against  it." 

"  You  renounce  the  devil,  but  not  his  works,  hey? 
Well,  that  is  a  comfortable  theology.  Now,  Mr. 
Breen;  one  more  line  of  questions.  When  did  you 
first  learn  of  this  tragedy?  " 

"  The  murder  or  the  accident  ?  " 

"  Edith  Breen's  death." 

"  On  the  day  of  the  accident  to  the  train." 

"  In  what  way?  " 

"  By  a  telegram  from  my  father." 

"  Where  were  you  when  you  received  it  ?  " 

"  At  my  office." 

"  Were  you  at  home  the  night  before  ?  " 


STORY  OF  THE  WITNESSES       435 

"  I  was." 

"  Were  you  at  breakfast  in  the  Breen  house  that 
morning?  " 

"  No." 

"Why  not?" 

"  I  rose  early,  and  went  to  the  office,  getting  my 
breakfast  here,  in  Hamlin." 

"  Was  that  usual  with  you  ?  " 

"  No,  it  was  not." 

"  Then  why  did  you  do  it?  " 

Again  Adolph  looked  appealingly  at  his  counsel, 
who  thereupon  interposed  an  objection.  Strain  be 
gan  to  argue  the  point,  but  was  cut  short  by  the 
Judge,  who  directed  the  witness  to  answer.  Adolph 
bowed  submissively,  but  with  apparent  sadness. 

"  As  a  good  citizen,"  he  said,  "  I  obey  the  man 
date  of  the  Court;  though  I  had  hoped,  as  on  the 
former  trial,  this  evidence  would  not  be  extorted 
from  me.  I  was  wakened  early  that  morning  by 
the  sound  of  two  persons  quarrelling,  on  the  stairs, 
and  then  up  in  the  attic.  Such  contention  was  not 
infrequent  in  the  house,  and  I  was  weary  of  it.  As 
I  did  not  care  to  hear  the  matter  threshed  out  at 
the  breakfast  table,  I  hurried  to  town  for  the  sake 
of  my  own  personal  comfort." 

"  That  will  do,  Mr.  Breen,"  said  Strain  peremp 
torily;  and  Adolph  started  eagerly  from  the  stand; 
but  his  counsel  restrained  him. 


436      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL  BREEN 

"  Wait  a  moment,"  Mr.  Carrington  directed. 
"  Your  sensibility  is  both  natural  and  admirable, 
but  it  must  give  way  to  the  cause  of  justice.  Who 
were  these  two  persons  who  were  quarrelling  — 
that  is,  if  you  knew  by  the  sound  of  their  voices?  " 

"  I  knew  only  too  well.  They  were  my  little 
cousin  Edith  Breen  and  this  plaintiff." 

"  Do  you  know  what  time  it  was?  " 

"  It  was  shortly  after  daybreak.  The  house  was 
very  still.  I  do  not  think  any  other  person  in  it  was 
awake." 

"  That  is  all,"  said  Mr.  Carrington. 

"  Do  I  understand,  Mr.  Breen,"  rasped  Strain's 
strident  voice,  "  that  you  refrained  from  mentioning 
this  circumstance  at  the  last  trial,  and  hesitated 
about  mentioning  it  now,  out  of  a  feeling  of  con 
sideration  for  the  plaintiff?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  could  not  forget  that  we  were  brought 
up  together,  and  that  I  was  taught  to  love  him  as 
a  cousin." 

"  Exactly.  Then  will  you  kindly  tell  me  how  you 
reconcile  such  amiable  consideration  with  your  con 
duct  on  the  night  of  his  recapture,  when  you  urged 
me  by  every  worldly  inducement  to  let  him  rot  in 
prison,  although  I  had  just  explained  to  you  his  true 
parentage;  and  passionately  declared  that,  above 
and  beyond  every  other  reason,  you  abhorred  him?  " 

"  If  you  refer,"  Adolph  answered  calmly,  leaning 


STORY  OF  THE   WITNESSES      437 

forward  to  make  his  statement  the  more  emphatic, 
"  if  you  refer,  as  you  must,  to  the  occasion  when 
you  admitted  that  you  were  going  to  pardon  your 
son,  because  you  considered  that  there  would  then 
be  a  good  speculative  chance  of  recovering  Neil 
Breen's  inheritance  for  him,  I  deny  that  I  ever  said 
or  thought  any  such  thing."  And,  as  John  Strain 
gave  an  impatient  gesture  of  dismissal,  he  stepped 
from  the  stand,  outwardly  impassive,  but  exulting 
inwardly  over  the  successful  execution  of  his  secret 
plans. 

"  We  rest  our  case,"  announced  Mr.  Carrington ; 
"  that  is  our  defence." 

"  Then,"  said  the  Judge,  "  since  it  is.  about  the 
regular  time,  we  will  take  a  recess  until  three  o'clock 
this  afternoon." 

John  Strain  welcomed  this  truce.  Indeed,  if  the 
Judge  had  not  granted  it  voluntarily,  he  himself 
would  have  insisted  upon  it.  He  hurriedly  bundled 
his  papers  into  a  green  bag,  and  then  glanced  over 
the  Court-room.  "  Come  here,"  he  called  to  Tan- 
credi ;  and  led  the  way  into  a  consultation-room. 

"  Things  are  going  badly,"  he  declared,  when 
they  were  alone.  "  Adolph  Breen  made  a  good  im 
pression,  and  managed  to  strengthen  his  side.  We 
know  he  lied,  of  course ;  but  what  difference  does 
that  make,  when  the  Jury  respect  him,  yes,  and  as 
I  can  see,  sympathize  with  him.  Oh,  I  blame  my- 


438      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL  BREEN 

self,  I  can't  blame  myself  too  strongly,  for  letting 
him  draw  me  by  the  nose  against  my  better  judg 
ment.  I  was  too  anxious ;  it  is  the  old  story,  a  man 
who  tries  a  case  in  which  he  is  personally  interested 
has  a  fool  for  a  client.  But  this  is  no  time  for  post 
mortems,  and  I  have  no  use  for  them  anyway.  Our 
fatal  defect,  after  all,  lies  in  Paul's  brain.  What 
is  the  use  of  building  up  pretty  structures  of  cir 
cumstantial  evidence  as  long  as  he  is  unable  to  ac 
count  for  the  gap  between  his  past  and  present 
memories?  Why,  isn't  it  natural  for  the  jury  to 
say,  in  the  light  of  all  the  evidence,  that  he  did  com 
mit  the  murder,  even  though  they  are  convinced  that 
he  does  not  remember  anything  about  it?  The  one 
vital,  essential  element  of  our  success,  then,  is  the 
restoration  of  his  memory.  I  have  appreciated  this 
all  along,  and  again  and  again  a  desperate,  yet  pos 
sible  remedy,  as  a  last  resort,  has  occurred  to  me. 
Listen,  now  —  you're  a  scientific  man,  a  student  of 
psychology  —  and  tell  me  what  you  think.  By 
God,  if  there's  a  living  show,  I'll  take  it ! 

"  My  theory  is  that  Paul  was  injured  in  some 
way  while  busy  with  the  last  experiment  in  his  note 
book.  Suppose  we  recreate  the  situation  at  that 
very  moment  ?  Suppose,  on  the  theory  of  the  asso 
ciation  of  ideas,  we  have  him  as  a  witness,  in  open 
court,  do  those  very  things  —  what  then  ?  " 

"  I  have  heard  of  such  a  thing,"  Tancredi  an- 


STORY  OF  THE  WITNESSES      439 

swered  slowly;  "but  in  this  case  there  might  be 
serious  danger  in  carrying  out  the  experiment. 
Paul  Breen  was  no  parlor  scientist  —  he  handled 
strong  forces.  There  may  be  an  accident  —  " 

"  What,  if  that  formula  is  executed  accurately?  " 

"  No ;  I  should  say  if  done  accurately  it  could  be 
done  with  perfect  safety.  But  the  slightest  slip  —  " 

"  So  much  the  better,"  cried  Strain ;  "  then  I  can 
assure  the  Court  that  the  thing  can  be  done  with 
perfect  safety.  As  for  the  slightest  slip,  that's  just 
what  I  am  looking  for.  I  believe  that  he  made  one, 
then ;  I  hope  that  he  may  make  one,  now." 

"  It  might  be  a  dangerous  accident,"  Tancredi 
warned. 

"How  dangerous?  —  what  will  be  the  radius  of 
danger?  Can  you  tell  that?  Are  there  fumes  that 
will  stupefy  the  court-room?  Will  there  be  a  roof- 
raising  explosion?  You  have  examined  the  data. 
You  ought  to  know  what  are  the  possibilities.  Tell 
me,  then." 

"  I  should  say  there  are  possibilities  of  a  slight 
explosion.  If  Paul  makes  a  mishap  in  his  experi 
ment,  he  may  be  shaken  somewhat  —  not  enough, 
I  should  say,  to  injure  him  permanently.  And  cer 
tainly  those  a  few  feet  distant  would  be  safe.  I 
shouldn't  hesitate  to  take  my  chances  with  him. 
Such  risks  are  often  assumed  in  laboratory  work. 
But  suppose  there  is  an  explosion  —  what  then  ?  " 


440      THE  CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

"  Why,  I  hope  that  the  very  convulsion  which 
brought  his  memory  to  a  stoppage  may  set  it  going 
again.  Isn't  that  possible  ?  " 

"  Possible  ?  Yes.  Probable  ?  No.  There  may 
be  one  chance  in  a  thousand." 

"  And,  without  that  chance,  he  hasn't  one  chance 
in  a  million  of  success.  We  must  take  it." 

"  It  is  Paul  who  will  take  it,"  objected  Tancredi, 
"  and  at  a  very  serious  risk." 

"  He  invites  it.  He  has  assured  me  that  he  would 
gladly  risk  his  life  for  vindication.  My  God,  man; 
why  shouldn't  he?  Think  of  all  he  has  at  stake. 
Think  of  the  hopeless  future  if  he  now  loses." 

"How  about  the  legal  question?"  Tancredi 
asked.  "  Can  you  get  permission  ?  " 

"  I  think  so,"  the  lawyer  answered.  "  Our  adver 
saries  are  over-confident.  They  will  give  us  free 
scope.  I'll  invent  a  theory  within  the  precedents, 
never  fear,  if  you  can  get  together  the  material  for 
the  experiment.  Can  you  do  that  ?  " 

"  Yes;  give  me  a  little  time  —  an  hour  will  do  — 
and  I  will  bring  the  necessary  apparatus  —  " 

"  Go  ahead  then,"  interrupted  John  Strain  vehe 
mently.  "  Do  your  part ;  I  will  do  mine,  and  Paul 
will  do  his.  A  chance  in  a  thousand  is  enough,  since 
justice  is  on  our  side." 


CHAPTER    XXX 

A    CHANCE    IN    A    THOUSAND 

PAUL  BREEN  walked  up  and  down  the  corridors 
of  the  Court  House  during  recess,  attended  and  pro 
tected  by  gloom.  The  evidence  of  the  morning 
had  been  a  revelation  of  hopelessness  to  him;  for, 
up  to  the  'beginning  of  the  trial,  he  had  kept  faith 
in  his  heart  that  the  heavens  themselves  would  fall 
if  necessary  in  order  that  justice  should  be  done. 
Now,  he  had  such  illusions ;  he  saw  himself  as 
others  saw  him,  defiled,  indelibly  defiled.  The  con 
sciousness  of  irihocence  gave  him  no  consolation ; 
that  was  an  old  story,  while  this  was  a  new  hurt. 
Does  a  wound  pain  the  less  because  it  is  undeserved 
—  especially  a  wound  in  the  heart  ? 

He  saw  John  Strain  swinging  up  the  stairway, 
burly,  aggressive,  bovine ;  a  pile  of  law  books  under 
one  arm,  a  green  bag,  stuffed  with  papers,  in  his 
other  hand,  his  broad  shoulders  shrugging  as  if 
eager  to  be  jostled.  "  Father,"  the  young  man 
cried. 

The  Governor  stopped  short  at  this  unwonted 
441 


442      THE   CASE  OF  PAUL  BREEN 

salutation,  the  fierce  light  of  his  eyes  softening  with 
tenderness.  "  Well,  my  boy,"  he  replied. 

"  It  isn't  well,"  Paul  retorted.  "  I  am  scourged, 
condemned,  crucified,  for  a  second  time.  Oh,  I 
don't  blame  you  —  you  are  doing  all  you  can ;  I 
blame  fate,  I  blame  life.  I  am  accursed,  accursed, 
from  the  hour  of  my  birth  —  " 

"  Paul,  Paul,  that  hurts  me  far  more  than  it  can 
hurt  you." 

"  But,  outcast,  accursed  thing  that  I  am,"  Paul 
went  on  impetuously,  his  mind  dwelling,  as  often 
happens  in  time  of  mental  distress,  not  on  the  great 
est  but  the  most  important  and  recent  of  his  ills, 
"  I'll  not  permit  it  any  longer  to  be  said  that  this 
trial  is  nothing  but  a  strike,  an  extortion,  an  attempt 
at  robbery  under  color  of  law.  I'll  wash  my  hands 
of  any  interest  in  the  Breen  estate;  I'll  renounce 
my  poor  rights  before  the  whole  court  rather 
than  —  " 

"  It  won't  be  necessary,"  said  John  Strain  gently, 
"  I'll  fix  that  all  right  for  you.  I  was  just  thinking 
that  some  such  shot  might  take  a  little  of  the  fog 
from  the  air.  But  there's  another  thing,  Paul. 
This  fight  is  neither  lost  nor  won  as  yet.  Before  the 
finish,  as  I  have  hinted,  I  may  have  to  put  you  in 
jeopardy  of  your  life.  If  I  do,  Paul;  if  I  do  —  do 
you  forgive  me?  " 

"  Forgive  you  ?    Why,  it  is  the  one  favor  I  have 


A   CHANCE   IN  A  THOUSAND     443 

entreated  you  to  grant.  Give  me  the  chance  to  dare 
and  to  do  at  any  cost.  Forgive  you?  I  bless 
you." 

"  You  don't  understand,  Paul,"  persisted  the 
Governor,  strangely  shaken.  "  If  I  do  this,  it  may 
be  too  late  for  me  to  ask  you  as  now  —  do  you  for 
give  me  ?  " 

"  God  knows  I  do,  father,"  Paul  responded,  com 
prehending  and  compassionating. 

John  Strain  lost  no  time  in  opening  his  case. 
Hardly  had  the  Crier  rapped  on  the  desk  and  pro 
claimed  "  The  Court  will  be  in  order,"  than  he  was 
on  his  feet,  pushing  his  head  forward  in  rude  salu 
tation,  and  uttering  the  perfunctory  words  "  May 
it  please  the  Court;  Gentlemen  of  the  Jury,"  in 
those  rasping  tones  which  so  often  before  had 
changed  premature  triumph  into  consternation  by 
their  inherent  and  vital  force. 

His  manner,  however,  was  moderate  enough. 
He  didn't  propose,  he  said,  that  the  issue  should 
be  clouded  longer  by  the  false  claim,  so  persistently 
urged  by  the  defence,  that  this  suit  was  brought  to 
rob  Adolph  Breen  of  his  lawful  inheritance.  The 
rightful  title  of  the  Breen  estate,  it  was  true,  was 
an  essential  element  of  the  case ;  but  the  real  issue 
was  the  innocence  or  guilt  of  the  plaintiff.  He, 
therefore,  begged  to  file  with  the  Court  the  plain 
tiff's  stipulation,  signed  also  by  himself,  that,  in  the 


444      THE   CASE  OF  PAUL   BREEN 

event  of  recovery,  every  dollar  should  be  devoted 
to  public  or  charitable  uses. 

"  We  object,  your  Honor,"  Mr.  Carrington  ex 
claimed  ;  "  any  such  document  is  utterly  irrelevant, 
raising  a  false  presumption  — 

"  You're  too  late,"  Strain  chuckled,  as  the  Judge 
shook  his  head  doubtfully.  "  We  don't  care  a  rap 
whether  it  is  received  or  not.  The  deed  is  executed, 
done  —  functus  officio,  in  a  word  —  just  as  you 
are." 

"Strain  and  Justice," .  sneered  Adolph. 

"  Yes,  Strain  and  Justice,"  the  Governor  thun 
dered  back ;  "  and  do  you  beware,  young  man,  lest 
you  be  crushed  by  the  weight  of  that  combination, 
which  at  last  has  been  fairly  and  squarely  made. 
The  hour  is  approaching  when  Justice,  through  her 
agent  Strain,  shall  expose  your  foul,  malign  con 
spiracy  —  where,  then,  will  be  your  quips  and 
sneers?  Look  on  this  picture,  gentlemen,  and  then 
on  that;  on  him  who  has  filched  and  withheld,  and 
on  him  who  would  have  generously  shared  and  now 
disdainfully  repudiates  —  and  say  which  one  is  the 
villain  and  which  one,  the  victim !  " 

Having  sent  these  words  home  vociferously,  de 
spite  impassioned  objections,  John  Strain  resumed 
his  normal  tones,  and  outlined  briefly  his  case.  He 
told  of  Soci'ty's  meeting  with  Edith,  and  the  provi 
dential  pawning  of  the  note-book  in  the  child's 


A   CHANCE   IN   A  THOUSAND      445 

peculiar  nickname.  He  admitted  frankly  the  wit 
ness's  lack  of  character,  but  asserted  that  the  cor- 
roboration  was  complete  and  that  Truth  was  no 
respecter  of  persons. 

"  Having  proved,  then,  Gentlemen,"  he  concluded, 
"  that  Edith  Breen  was  alive  and  well,  hours  after 
the  time  when  it  is  claimed  her  dead  body  had  been 
shipped  in  the  trunk  by  the  plaintiff,  we  shall  show, 
as  well  as  it  can  be  shown  in  the  exceptional  circum 
stances  of  the  case,  just  what  were  plaintiff's  pur 
suits  and  purposes  at  this  crisis  of  his  life.  It  is 
well  known  to  you  all,  and  the  fact  has  already  been 
attributed  falsely  by  the  defence  to  a  base  cause, 
that  the  plaintiff  has  suffered  serious  mental  im 
pairment.  The  sight  of  the  note-book,  which  be 
longed  to  him,  has  already  stimulated  his  memory 
to  a  degree ;  but  we  hope  to  still  further  refresh  it 
by  the  association  of  other  objects  with  which  he 
was  also  then  familiar.  This  association,  too,  will 
be  corroborative  in  a  wray.  For  instance,  he  claims 
he  can  translate  and  materialize  the  hieroglyphics 
with  which,  as  you  see,  this  note-book  is  filled. 
Now,  should  he  succeed  in  carrying  out  their  mean 
ing  in  your  presence,  it  having  been  shown  that 
the  book  has  been  withheld  from  him  and  that  he 
has  had  no  chance  before  to  experiment,  why,  then 
we  may  fairly  argue  that  his  reviving  memory  is 
reliable.  How  far  this  refreshing  process  will  work, 


446      THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

which,  as  the  Court  will  advise  you,  is  a  procedure 
legally  sound  through  a  hundred  years  of  prece 
dents,  we  do  not  know.  That  rests  with  God,  who 
can  restore  even  as  he  has  taken  away,  and  whose 
aid  you  have  invoked  in  rendering  your  verdict. 
But,  we  believe  we  shall  show  that  the  plaintiff,  so 
far  from  having  any  thought  or  concern  about  Edith 
Breen  at  this  time,  to  say  nothing  of  plotting  mur 
derously  against  her,  was  engrossed  body  and  soul 
over  investigations  which  might  have  proved,  and 
may  yet  prove,  in  the  dawning  of  better  days,  a 
blessing  to  mankind.  What  we  want  is  truth;  and 
we  shall  use  every  means  in  our  power,  under  the 
law  and  his  Honor's  learned  rulings,  to  establish  it." 

"  Let  him  go  ahead,"  whispered  Mr.  Carrington 
to  his  client.  "  The  more  rope  Paul  Breen  has,  the 
more  surely  he  will  hang  himself.  I  have  some 
smattering  of  scientific  knowledge,  and  I  believe 
that  I  shall  be  able  to  show  on  cross-examination 
that  his  experimenting  was  the  pretence  you  claim 
it  was,  designed  to  veil  his  desperate  schemings  to 
get  possession  of  the  estate." 

"  Perhaps  so,"  replied  Adolph  uneasily,  as  he 
realized  that  he  was  caught  between  the  horns  of 
a  dilemma. 

The  plaintiff's  case  proceeded  expeditiously, 
though  somewhat  tamely,  until  Daniel  Mattice,  alias 
Soci'ty  Dan,  was  called  to  the  stand,  when  an 


A  CHANCE   IN  A  THOUSAND      447 

amused  ripple  stirred  the  audience.  And,  indeed, 
there  was,  at  first  sight,  something  comical  in  the 
contrast  between  his  shrewd,  droll  face,  and  the  way 
he  shrank  back  in  the  chair,  as  if  striving  to  make 
himself  as  small  as  possible;  though  his  similitude 
to  a  hunted  beast  at  bay  might  have  occurred  pain 
fully  to  a  discriminating  mind. 

There  was  sharp  objection  at  once  by  the  defence 
to  his  testifying  on  the  ground  of  the  witness's 
notorious  disability,  for  the  purpose,  of  course,  of 
making  the  equally  notorious  fact  of  his  pardon  by 
Governor  Strain  a  matter  of  record.  When  his 
legal  rehabilitation  had  been  shown,  Soci'ty  told 
his  story  simply  and  well,  though  he  doubtless  had 
private  reasons  of  his  own  for  feeling  ill  at  ease. 

Mr.  Carrington  wasted  little  time  over  cross- 
examination. 

"How  many  times  have  you  been  convicted?" 
he  asked. 

"  I  kinder  disremimber,  sir,"  Soci'ty  answered. 
"  A  score  or  more  mayhap,  not  countin'  the  drunk- 
and-disord'lies." 

"  Not  important  enough  to  impress  your  memory, 
hey?" 

"  It  was  me  pusson,  sir,  thet  was  impressed  rad- 
der  than  me  mem'ry." 

"  Exactly ;  now  you  met  the  plaintiff  in  prison  ?  " 

"  Yessir;    we  wore  bot'  doin'  time;    fulfillin'  the 


448      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL  BREEN 

law,  you  might  say,  while  odders,  far  wuss,  was 
filled  full  of  the  profits." 

"  And  he  told  you  his  story  there  ?  " 

"  Yessir ;  he  told  me  all  about  the  snide  game  thet 
had  been  worked  on  him." 

"  And  then  you  made  affidavit  to  some  of  the 
statements  to  which  you  have  just  testified  ?  " 

"  I  tuk  me  oat'  for  sure,  sir." 

"  And,  when  his  application  for  pardon  failed, 
you  aided  plaintiff  to  escape,  and  diverted  the  detec 
tives  from  recapturing  him  at  your  own  expense?  " 

"  I  did  give  'em  the  double-cross  for  a  fac' ;  but 
the  old  poppy-guys,  whose  clothes  we  prigged,  stud 
the  expinse." 

"  And  you  did  all  this  for  a  stranger  without  hope 
or  promise  of  reward  ?  " 

"  Joe  and  Jake,  the  State  guns,  copped  the  re 
ward,  sir." 

"  Do  you  know  the  nature  of  an  oath  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  guess !  It's  straight  goods,  without 
nothin'  up  me  sleeve,  s'help  me !  " 

"  That  will  do,"  concluded  Mr.  Carrington,  with 
a  shrug  of  the  shoulders,  and  a  meaning  glance 
toward  the  jury. 

Poor  Soci'ty!  No  wonder  that  the.  recollection 
of  divers  offences,  ancient  and  recent,  still  unre 
quited,  had  perturbed  him.  As  he  stepped  gingerly 
from  the  stand  an  officer  in  plain  clothes  tapped  him 


A   CHANCE   IN  A  THOUSAND      449 

on  the  shoulder,  at  the  same  time  extending  a  war 
rant  of  arrest  for  larceny.  This  stroke  had  been  ar 
ranged  by  Adolph,  and  its  effects  were  manifest  in 
the  way  the  jury  drew  together  and  nodded  their 
heads;  though  Mr.  Carrington,  whose  ability  and 
character  alike  constrained  him  to  avoid  unprofes 
sional  tricks,  pursed  his  lips  disapprovingly. 

"  I  only  call  attention  to  this  flagrant  breach  of 
the  rights  of  a  witness,  your  Honor,"  said  John 
Strain,  "  as  an  illustration  of  the  desperate  tactics 
to  which  the  defence  has  been  forced  to  resort." 

"  Rights  be  damned,"  shouted  Soci'ty,  his  auda 
cious  self  again,  now  that  the  apprehended  bolt  had 
fallen.  "  The  unly  rights  an  old  lag  like  me  has  is 
wrongs.  Thet  for  your  Coorts ;  and  thet  for  your 
patter  about  Christun  refarm !  "  And  he  made  a 
gesture  of  defiance,  more  forcible  than  seemly,  as  he 
was  led  away. 

"  Constance  Sanderson,"  John  Strain  announced ; 
and,  as  he  conducted  the  girl  gallantly  to  the  stand, 
the  court-room  was  again  stirred,  but  this  time  with 
admiration  for  her  lovely  presence  and  calm,  gra 
cious  bearing.  Adolph  leaned  forward,  staring 
avidly,  fiercely;  while  Paul,  his  lips  white  and  set, 
bowed  his  head,  hiding  with  his  hand  the  bewilder 
ment  and  pain  of  his  eyes. 

There  was  the  hush  of  expectancy  as  Constance, 
in  a  natural,  conversational  way,  told  of  her  friend- 


ship  with  Edith,  and  how  the  child  had  delighted  to 
call  herself  in  her  home  by  the  fanciful  nickname  of 
"  Ed  Flyaway."  The  incident  was  so  simple,  and 
yet  so  far-reaching,  even  as  mighty  machinery  may 
be  set  in  motion  by  the  touch  of  a  tiny  finger,  that, 
as  she  concluded,  there  was  a  general  sigh  of  satis 
faction.  Again  the  jurymen  drew  together  and 
whispered  and  settled  back;  while  Mr.  Carrington 
looked  worried  as  he  rose  to  cross-examine. 

Nothing,  however,  could  be  more  courteous  and 
considerate  than  his  address.  "  You  will  pardon 
me,  my  dear  young  lady,"  he  began,  "if  my  duty 
compels  me  to  ask  you  some  very  personal  ques 
tions."  And  Constance  smiled  assent. 

"  Very  well,  then ;  you  have  known  plaintiff  for 
many  years,  and  are  deeply  interested  in  the  success 
of  his  cause  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir;  yes,  sir;  "  Constance  answered  bravely. 

"  Please  explain  to  the  jury  just  how  close  and 
intimate  are  your  relations  with  him  ?  " 

"  We  are  engaged  to  be  married." 

"You  love  him?" 

"  I  do,  I  do ;    most  dearly." 

"  And  because  you  love  him,  you  believe  him  to 
be  innocent?  " 

"  Because  I  know  him,  I  love  him ;  and  that 
knowledge  assures  me  of  his  innocence." 

Mr.  Carrington  smiled  indulgently,  as,  with  a  bow 


A   CHANCE   IN   A  THOUSAND     451 

and  a  wave  of  the  hand,  he  dismissed  the  witness. 
"  There  spoke  the  heart,  not  the  mind,  gentlemen," 
he  said,  turning  to  the  jury. 

"  And  where  else  should  we  look  for  truth,"  de 
manded  John  Strain,  "  than  in  the  pure  heart  of  a 
good  woman  ?  " 

"  It's  a  pity  you  didn't  look  for  it  there  some 
ysars  ago,"  Adolph  murmured  audibly. 

With  head  proudly  erect,  and  eyes  undaunted, 
Constance  moved  up  the  aisle  to  her  chair.  Only, 
as  she  passed  Paul,  her  hand  trembled,  as  if  she 
would  stroke  his  bowed  head.  But  Paul  did  not 
respond  to  the  subtle  magic  of  her  emotions;  he 
was  not  even  aware  of  her  proximity.  As  in  a 
dream,  he  had  listened  to  her  evidence,  and  alone  of 
all  the  audience  had  remained  incredulous.  Con 
stance  love  him ;  they  engaged  to  be  married  ?  Im 
possible.  Why  should  she  love  him,  then,  and  wrhen 
had  they  become  engaged  ?  In  that  time  of  waking, 
which  he  could  not  remember;  in  that  life  of  activ 
ity  and  light,  before  he  had  withered  into  a  shade 
among  shades,  a  vision  of  the  night,  uncertain  of 
all  things,  but  most  of  all  of  himself?  Perhaps  so, 
perhaps  so;  but,  if  so,  what  difference  could  it 
make  ?  It  was  the  old  Paul  Breen  whom  she  loved ; 
it  was  the  old  Paul  Breen  to  whom  she  was  en 
gaged  ;  not  his  ghost,  not  his  ghost.  He  must  keep 
himself  remote,  he  must  flee  to  the  uttermost  parts 


452      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

of  the  earth,  lest  that  fond,  innocent  heart  should  be 
chilled  with  the  horror  of  discovering  what  he  really 
was,  and  how  he  really  felt. 

From  such  wild,  incoherent  musings  as  these  Paul 
was  roused  by  the  sound  of  his  own  name.  "  Paul 
Breen,  Paul  Breen.  The  plaintiff  will  take  the 
stand,"  the  old  Crier  kept  repeating.  It  was  the 
trumpet  call  to  battle;  it  was  the  supreme  moment 
of  test  for  which  he  had  prayed.  With  every  nerve 
and  muscle  tense  with  resolution,  in  some  way,  he 
knew  not  how,  to  redeem,  to  restore  himself,  Paul 
obeyed. 

"Do  you  remember  the  day  in  question  ?"  John 
Strain  asked  after  a  little,  referring  to  the  date  of 
Edith's  death. 

"I  do;   that  is,  parts  of  it,"  Paul  answered. 

"Why  not  all  of  it?" 

"  My  memory  is  defective ;  I  do  not  know  from 
what  cause." 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  this  note-book  before?  " 

"  Yes ;  it  was  mine ;  I  was  using  it  constantly 
about  that  time;  I  was  using  it  that  very  day." 

"  What  were  you  doing  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know ;  but  I  believe  the  book  would  aid 
me  in  knowing." 

"  When  did  you  see  it  last?  " 

"  About  six  months  ago,  when  you  showed  it  to 
me." 


A   CHANCE   IN  A  THOUSAND     453 

"  Well,  what  occurred  then  ?  " 

"  You  asked  me  if  I  could  read  the  cipher.  I 
said  yes;  that  I  believed  I  could  not  only  read  it 
but  could  do  what  it  directed.  You  wouldn't  let  me 
try,  and  I  haven't  seen  it  since." 

"  Examine  the  book.  Are  the  writings  and  sym 
bols  in  your  hand  and  made  by  you?  " 

"  Yes,  every  one  of  them." 

"  Well,  read  them.     Tell  us  what  they  mean." 

"  This  is  a  record  of  some  experiment  in  physical 
science  that  I  was  making,"  Paul  said  slowly,  like 
one  translating  a  foreign  tongue.  "  As  I  read,  the 
memory  comes  back  to  me  that  I  was  intensely  in 
terested  in  my  work;  I  believed  that  I  had  discov 
ered  something  of  inestimable  benefit  to  mankind. 
I  don't  know  what  it  was;  but  here  is  the  last  for 
mula  I  made,  calling  for  an  electrical  motor,  retorts, 
flasks,  tubes,  the  following  acids  —  "  And,  as  Paul 
enumerated  the  articles,  Tancredi,  sitting  near-by, 
jotted  down  the  list  and  then  nodded  intelligently  to 
Strain. 

"  Your  Honor,"  the  Governor  explained,  "  I  have 
already  provided  some  of  the  paraphernalia  in  use  by 
physicists,  and  it  so  happens  that  the  very  things 
required  are  at  hand.  I  propose,  then,  to  have  them 
placed  on  this  table,  and  give  the  witness  the  chance 
to  refresh  and  verify  his  memory.  I  am  advised  by 
a  competent  authority  that  the  execution  of  this  for- 


454      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

mula  can  be  made  without  danger,  and  you  will 
readily  see  —  " 

"  Hold  on  there,"  Mr.  Carrington  interrupted, 
rather  perfunctorily.  "  We  shall  have  to  object  I 
suppose;  though  mainly  because  it  is  a  waste  of 
time.  We  have  no  fear  that  this  intelligent  jury 
could  be  taken  in  by  such  hocus-pocus." 

"  Let  me  lay  the  foundation  fully  for  my  offer, 
then,"  Strain  rejoined.  "  Now,  Mr.  Breen,  what 
effect  do  you  think  it  will  have  upon  you  mentally 
to  carry  out  these  notes?  " 

"  I  believe,  I  feel,  I  know,"  Paul  answered  pas 
sionately,  "  that  it  will  cause  me  to  remember ;  that 
it  will  restore  to  my  mind  what  is  now  a  blank,  my 
actions  on  that  fatal  morning;  that  it  will  enable 
me  to  disprove  this  horrible  charge,  to  set  myself 
right  before  men  — 

"  There  it  is,  your  Honor,"  said  Strain,  clinching 
the  point ;  "  we  offer  to  put  our  witness  to  this  test, 
having  scrupulously  refrained  from  trying  it  before 
now,  for  the  double  purpose  of  refreshing  his  mem 
ory,  and  of  strengthening  what  he  has  already  re 
membered.  If  there  is  any  serious  question  of  our 
right,  which,  in  any  event,  would  not  be  raised  ex 
cept  by  those  afraid  of  the  truth,  I  propose  to  estab 
lish  my  position  by  a  long  line  of  authorities,  taken 
from  the  highest  courts  of  this  country,  Great 
Britain,  and  under  the  Roman  Code.  If  one  of  the 


A  CHANCE   IN  A  THOUSAND     455 

bailiffs  will  kindly  bring  these  volumes  from  the 
library  —  " 

"  Oh,  Lord,"  Mr.  Carrington  exclaimed  pettishly, 
"  if  Brother  Strain  is  going  to  cite  cases,  we'll  never 
get  through.  In  the  interest  of  a  sane  brevity,  your 
Honor,  I  withdraw  my  objection.  But,  out  of  or 
dinary  humanity,  I  desire  to  warn  this  immaculate 
plaintiff  that  his  precious  discovery,  if  anything,  is 
likely  to  prove  a  boomerang.  I  never  did  like  to 
help  even  the  worst  criminal  to  convict  himself."  • 

"  Humph !  "  growled  John  Strain.  "  Then  you 
ought  to  stop  practising  law." 

Even  while  argument  was  pending,  Tancredi  had 
arranged  the  apparatus  on  the  table.  At  a  nod  from 
the  Judge,  Paul  now  stepped  from  the  stand,  and 
began  his  manipulations.  There  was  something  in 
his  movements,  deliberate,  automatic,  that  bore  a 
similarity  to  a  somnambulist  working  in  the  dark  — 
something  mysterious,  uncanny,  that  quickened  the 
pulse  and  bated  the  breath  and  brought  the  silence 
of  suspense  brooding  solemnly  over  the  court-room. 

From  her  chair,  far  back  on  the  centre  aisle,  Con 
stance  Sanderson  watched  the  experiment  with  the 
torturing  intentness  that  waits  upon  a  crisis  in  dis 
ease.  John  Strain,  leaning  against  the  rail,  folded 
his  arms  and  compressed  his  lips  with  the  grim 
resolution  of  one  who  knows  but  accepts  a  desperate 
chance.  Tancredi's  bright  eyes  twinkled  with  in- 


456      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

creasing  wonder  and  admiration  as  he  followed 
Paul's  deft  hand;  and  yet  his  cheeks  paled  as  he 
foresaw  what  a  slight  mishap  might  bring  about. 
Mr.  Carrington,  laboriously  contemptuous  and  in 
different,  still  showed  something  of  the  apprehension 
of  a  skeptic  at  strange  rites.  The  jury  bent  forward 
as  one  man,  fully  prepared,  in  their  dull,  self-satis 
fied  sapiency,  to  estimate  justly  any  occult  demon 
stration. 

,  But  the  one,  above  all  others,  the  most  interested, 
the  most  agitated,  was  cool,  resourceful  Adolph 
Breen.  He  alone  knew  from  Edith's  parting  words 
what  was  likely  to  happen;  and  yet,  if  he  protested, 
what  explanation  could  he  give,  since  the  only  ex 
planation  credible  was  confession?  Like  many 
another  of  adroit,  fertile  mind,  he  was  physically  a 
coward,  timorous  of  natural  forces,  apprehensive  of 
pain,  faint  and  weak-hearted  at  the  very  thought 
of  blood.  Gradually,  primeval  fear  overmastered 
him.  He  sprang  forward,  crying :  —  "  Stop  him ; 
he  is  mad ;  he  will  kill  us  all !  " 

As  Adolph  thus  rushed  upon  Paul,  a  tube  of  acid 
in  the  latter's  hand  slipped  and  broke.  There  was 
an  explosion,  dull,  heavy,  but  extremely  limited  in 
scope.  When  the  smoke  lifted,  the  two  young  men, 
separated  by  such  deadly  antagonisms,  lay  side  by 
side,  ghastly  and  bleeding. 

For  a  moment  panic  raged  in  the  court-room, 


A  CHANCE   IN  A  THOUSAND     457 

with  the  jury  swarming  over  the  back  of  their  box, 
and  the  audience  upsetting  benches  and  chairs  and 
trampling  on  the  feeble  in  a  mad  flight  for  safety. 
Then  the  sharp  raps  of  the  Judge's  gavel,  the  deter 
mined  resistance  of  the  bailiffs  and  the  exhortations 
and  assurances  of  the  lawyers  that  all  possible  dan 
ger  had  dissipated,  brought  about  a  shame-faced 
return;  and  decorous  order  again  prevailed. 

Constance  Sanderson,  in  her  unselfish  devotion, 
had  sprung  forward,  resolved  to  share  Paul's  fate, 
whatever  it  might  be;  but,  seeing  him  struggling 
to  his  feet,  a  weird,  awakening  expression  spread 
ing  over  his  face,  she  sank  back  again  into  her  chair, 
her  hand  pressed  tightly  over  her  wildly  throbbing 
heart. 

Tancredi,  with  a  physician's  keen  eye,  had  at  once 
perceived  which  one  of  the  twro  young  men  was  the 
more  grievously  hurt.  Instantly  he  was  at  Adolph's 
side,  forgetting,  in  the  demands  of  duty,  the  claims 
of  friendship.  "  This  man  is  dying,"  he  cried  to 
the  court-officers.  "  Cover  him  up  and  bear  him 
into  the  next  room." 

As  the  officials  bent  to  their  task  the  court-room 
was  panic-stricken  again  by  fearful  screams,  sharp, 
broken  at  first,  then  becoming  more  articulate. 
"  Stop,  stop !  "  came  the  unearthly  cry  from  under 
a  rug  hastily  thrown  over  something  too  shattered, 
top  mutilated,  for  human  sight ;  and  those  who  were 


458      THE   CASE  OF   PAUL  BREEN 

bearing  Adolph  away  were  constrained  to  obey.  "  I 
am  justly  punished,"  the  voice  went  on,  gaining 
in  awful  intensity  as  it  lost  in  volume.  "  I  encour 
aged  Edith  to  run  away  that  morning;  she  hid  in 
the  freight-car,  and  was  killed  by  the  collision.  I 
envied  the  fortune  —  I  hated  Paul.  Constance,  I 
love  you  —  forgive  —  ' 

The  screams  ended  in  a  gasp.  Once  more  the 
men  hastened  with  their  abhorrent  task;  but  now, 
no  voice,  enthralling  through  agony,  halted  them. 
No,  no;  silence  attended  that  poor  thing  that  had 
been  Adolph  Breen,  as  it  was  borne  away,  —  that 
merciful  silence  which  spares  the  dead,  when  to 
speak  is  to  condemn. 

Meanwhile,  Paul  remained  standing  as  he  had 
risen  —  an  impressive  figure,  with  arms  out 
stretched,  chest  exposed,  face  uplifted ;  oblivious  of 
the  present  as  he  was  receptive  to  the  light  of  the 
past.  John  Strain,  with  forceful  gesture,  at  once 
held  off  the  officious,  and  compelled  silence  and 
stillness. 

The  glow  of  intelligence  on  Paul's  face,  from 
growing  in  intense  inquiry,  changed  suddenly  into 
a  look  of  acute  alarm.  "  Edith,  Edith,"  he  cried 
loudly;  "  Keep  away,  get  back  for  God's  sake,  or 
you'll  be  hurt!  " 

Judge,  jury,  lawyers,  spectators,  all  yielded  now 
to  a  more  supine  attention  than  they  had  accorded 


"'GET  BACK  FOR  GOD'S  SAKE,  OR  YOU'LL  BE  HURT!'" 


460      THE   CASE   OF   PAUL   BREEN 

pened !  I  remember  —  Oh,  God  be  thanked  —  I 
remember  and  feel  my  love  for  you ;  I  remember  and 
bless  your  love  for  me !  " 

Again  there  was  tumult  in  the  court-room, 
though  now  it  was  the  outburst  of  joy,  not  the 
frenzy  of  panic.  But  Paul  heeded  not  sign  nor 
sound  —  the  outstretched  hand,  the  hearty  congrat 
ulation.  Brushing  aside  those  who  thronged  to  do 
him  honor,  he  darted  up  the  aisle  to  where  Con 
stance  sat,  radiant  amid  her  tears. 

The  cheering  grew  more  and  more  vociferous  as 
the  jury,  standing  in  the  box,  acclaimed  a  verdict 
for  the  plaintiff,  as  John  Strain  and  Mr.  Carrington 
clasped  hands  with  the  good  feeling  of  worthy  foe- 
men,  as  his  Honor  himself  sprang  from  the  Bench 
and  joined  in  the  general  rejoicing.  But,  irrepres 
sible  and  exuberant  as  was  this  manifestation  of 
human  delight  in  the  triumph  of  Justice,  it  respected, 
it  kept  aloof  from  the  sacred  spot  where  Paul  Breen 
knelt  beside  Constance  Sanderson,  his  soul  gaining 
security  of  happiness  from  the  benediction  of  her 
pure  eyes. 

THE   END. 


From 

L.  C.  Page  &  Company's 

Announcement   List 

of  New   Fiction 


THE  STORY  GIRL 

By  L.  M.  MONTGOMERY. 

Cloth,  12ino,  illustrated,  decorative  jacket  .  .        $1.50 

To  quote  from  one  of  our  editor's  reports  on  the  new  Mont 
gomery  book  —  "  Miss  Montgomery  has  decidedly  arrived  in  this 
story!  "  The  remarkable  success  of  her  delightful  ANNE  books 
and  of  the  charming  "  Kilmeny  of  the  Orchard  "  has  established 
her  as  one  of  America's  leading  authors  —  a  writer  of  books 
which  touch  the  heart,  uplift  the  spirit,  and  leave  an  imprint  of 
lasting  sweetness  on  the  memory.  But  in  "  The  Story  Girl," 
everywhere  the  touch  of  the  finished  artist  is  evident  —  a  smooth 
ness  and  polish  which  heightens  the  unusual  style  of  a  gifted 
author. 

The  environment  is  again  the  author's  beloved  Prince  Edward 
Island  and  the  story  and  incidents  possess  the  same  simplicity 
and  charm  which  characterize  Miss  Montgomery's  earlier  books. 
The  Story  Girl,  herself  —  Sara  Stanley  —  is  a  fascinating 
creature,  and  will  delight  and  thrill  her  readers  with  her  weird 
tales  of  ghosts  "  and  things."  She  tells  in  wondrous  voice  of 
"  The  Mystery  of  the  Golden  Milestone,"  "  How  Kissing  Was 
Discovered,"  and  of  just  how  the  Milky  Way  happened  into  the 
heavens.  She  will  make  you  feel  the  spell  of  the  old  orchard 
where  she  and  her  playmates  spend  such  happy  days,  and  with 
Felix,  Dan  and  Beverly  you  will  live  again  with  her  the  "  trage 
dies  of  childhood." 

Of  Miss  Montgomery's  previous  books,  the  reviewers  have 
written  as  follows: 

"  The  art  which  pervades  every  page  is  so  refined  that  the  cul 
tivated  imagination  will  return  to  the  story  again  and  again  in 
memory  to  find  always  something  fresh  to  enjoy."  —  Toronto 
World. 

"  Miss  Montgomery  has  attained  an  honored  place  among  the 
worth-while  writers  of  fiction."  —  Beacon  and  Budget. 

"  Miss  Montgomery  has  a  sympathetic  knowledge  of  human 
nature,  joined  to  high  ideals,  a  reasonably  romantic  view  point 
and  a  distinct  gift  of  description."  —  Chicago  Record-Herald. 


L.    C.   PAGE    &•   COMPANY'S 


A  CAPTAIN  OF  RALEIGH'S 

By  G.  E.  THEODORE  ROBERTS,  author  of  "  A  Cavalier  of  Vir 
ginia,"  "  Comrades  of  the  Trails,"  "  Red  Feathers,"  etc. 
Cloth,  12mo,  illustrated,  decorative  jacket 

Net  $1.25  (carriage,  13c.  extra) 

A  typical  Roberts  romance  —  dashing  and  brisk  with  the 
scenes  for  the  most  part  laid  in  the  infant  colony  of  Newfound 
land,  at  the  time  when  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  and  other  famous 
captains  swept  the  seas  for  England.  Sir  Walter  is  one  of  the 
characters  in  the  romance  but  the  chief  interest  centres  about  one 
of  his  officers,  Captain  John  Percy. 

Elizabeth  Duwaney,  the  heroine,  is  beautiful  and  vivacious 
enough  to  quite  turn  the  heads  of  the  several  gallant  gentlemen 
who  struggle  for  her  hand,  and  to  keep  the  reader  guessing  until 
the  very  last  page  as  to  which  suitor  will  find  favor  in  her  eyes. 
Unusual  and  unexpected  situations  in  the  plot  are  handled  skil 
fully  and  you  close  the  book  agreeing  with  our  editor  that  "  Mr. 
Roberts  has  given  us  another  capital  yarn!  " 

"  Mr.  Roberts  has  undoubted  skill  in  portraying  character 
and  carrying  events  along  to  a  satisfactory  conclusion."  — 
The  Smart  Set. 

"  One  can  always  predict  of  a  book  by  Mr.  Roberts  that  it 
will  be  interesting.  One  can  go  further  and  predict  that  the  book 
will  be  fascinating,  exciting  and  thrilling."  —  Boston  Globe. 

A  SOLDIER  OF  VALLEY  FORGE 

By  ROBERT  NEILSON  STEPHENS,  author  of  "  An  Enemy  to  the 
King,"  "  Philip  Winwood,"  etc.,  and  G.  E.  THEODORE 
ROBERTS,  author  of  "  Hemming,  the  Adventurer,"  "  Red 
Feathers,"  etc. 

12mo,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated  ....  $1.50 
The  many  admirers  of  the  brilliant  historical  romances  of  the 
late  Robert  Neilson  Stephens  will  be  gratified  at  the  announce 
ment  of  a  posthumous  work  by  that  gifted  writer.  The  rough 
draft  of  the  story  was  laid  aside  for  other  work,  and  later,  with 
out  completing  the  novel,  the  plot  was  utilized  for  a  play.  With 
the  play  completed  Mr.  Stephens  again  turned  his  attention  to 
the  novel,  but  death  prevented  its  completion.  Mr.  Roberts  has 
handled  his  difficult  task  of  completing  the  work  with  care  and 
skill. 

The  story,  ^ke  that  of  "  The  Continental  Dragoon,"  takes  as 
its  theme  an  incident  in  the  Revolution,  and,  as  in  the  earlier 
novel,  the  scene  is  the  "  debatable  ground  "  north  of  New  York. 
In  interest  of  plot  and  originality  of  development  it  is  as  re 
markable  as  the  earlier  work,  but  it  is  more  mature,  more  force 
ful,  more  real. 


LIST  OF  NEW  FICTION 


THE  DILEMMA  OF  ENGELTIE 

By  EMMA  RAYNER,  author  of  "  Free  to  Serve,"  etc. 

Cloth,  12mo,  illustrated.  Net  $1.35  (carriage,  12c.  extra) 

Given  a  wedding  irrevocably  decreed,  the  date  of  the  actual 
ceremony  somewhere  on  the  limits  of  a  fortnight  ahead;  given 
a  bride  but  not  a  groom,  a  maid  of  the  old  Dutch  New  York  days, 
pretty  enough  to  turn  men's  heads  for  her  beauty  alone,  well 
dowered  enough  to  be  one  of  the  prizes  of  the  decade;  the  wedding 
festivities,  merrymakings  these  Dutch  colonial  worthies  loved 
to  give  to  prospective  brides  and  grooms,  in  full  swing;  half  a 
dozen  young  Dutchmen  with  hands  outstretched  ready  to  grasp 
the  prize  and  reciprocate  the  maiden's  vows  would  she  but  nod 
their  way;  the  wedding  itself  as  sure  as  fate  or  death;  the  bride 
upon  the  scene,  receiving  the  honors  of  the  occasion  —  alone; 
the  bridegroom  an  unknown  quantity;  the  clays  racing  by  in 
mirth  and  festivity  and  the  wedding  daily  drawing  nearer; 
problem  —  find  the  bridegroom ! 

The  setting  for  this  unusual  situation  is  quaint  New  Nether 
lands,  in  1702,  shortly  after  England  had  succeeded  in  wresting 
from  Holland  her  prosperous  colony  in  the  New  World.  The 
sharp  contrast  between  the  primitive  conditions  of  the  neigh 
boring  settlements  and  the  comparative  luxury  of  the  town  is 
well  portrayed,  and  forms  an  everchanging  background  to  a 
tale  of  unusual  excellence  both  in  the  conception  and  in  the 
development  of  its  novel  plot. 

New  edition  (Tenth  Printing)  of 
FREE  TO   SERVE 

By  EMMA  RAYNER.    The  novel  that  made  the  author  famous. 

Cloth,  12mo,  with  a  frontispiece  in  full  color  by  George  Gibbs. 

$1.50 

"  After  reading  Emma  Rayner's  tale  of  Colonial  New  York, 
'  Free  to  Serve,'  what  has  impressed  one  the  most  is  its  vividness 
of  atmosphere.  The  spirit  of  the  early  eighteenth  century  has 
been  caught  to  perfection,  and  transferred  to  every  page.  One 
lives  in  a  picturesque  past,  and  thinks  not  of  the  complicated 
world  of  to-day,  save  as  the  impulses  and  motives  animating 
human  beings  are  the  same  now  as  then."  —  Boston  Times. 

"  To  the  charm  of  a  story  well  conceived  and  cleverly  told  is 
added  the  interest  of  characters  that  until  now  have  been  unusual 
in  present-day  fiction."  —  New  York  Press. 

"  In  '  Free  to  Serve  '  we  have  a  book  that  rises  from  out  of 
the  dull  monotony  of  mediocrity  and  amply  deserves  considera 
tion."  —  The  Philadelphia  American. 


L.  C.  PAGE   &>    COMPANY'S 


THE  CHRONICLES  OF  MADELYN  MACK 

By  HUGH  C.  WEIR. 

Cloth,  12mo,  illustrated $1.50 

Lovers  of  rapid  action,  ingenious  situations  and  excitement 
will  find  abundant  entertainment  in  following  the  adventures 
and  career  of  Madelyn  Mack  —  a  veritable  wizard  at  her  trade 

—  the  heroine  of  this  clever  and  straightforward  detective  novel. 
Her  career  is  brimful  of  excitement,  one  continuous  series  of 
adventures,  which  constitute  a  tale  of  swift  and  dramatic  action. 
Clever  in  plot  and  effective  in  style,  the  author  has  seized  on 
some  of  the  most  sensational  features  of  modern  life,  and  the 
reader  who  has  a  grain  of  fancy  or  imagination  may  be  defied 
to  lay  this  book  down  once  he  has  begun  it  until  the  last  word  is 
reached. 

MISS  BILLY 

By  ELEANOR  H.  PORTER. 

Cloth,  12mo,  illustrated.  Net  $1.25  (carriage,  12c.  extra) 

"  Billy,"  in  this  instance,  is  the  name  of  a  very  dainty  and 
pretty  girl  with  pink  cheeks  and  a  wealth  of  curly  hair  and  the 
sweetest  of  smiles.  When  you  first  meet  her  in  the  story  she  is 
all  that  her  name  implies  —  an  impulsive,  warm-hearted  girl  of 
eighteen  who  quite  unknowingly  succeeds  in  completely  upsetting 
the  quiet  and  dignity  of  the  Beacon  Street  household  of  the  three 
Henshaw  boys,  who  had  hitherto  lived  an  uneventful  life  in 
"  The  Strata,"  as  the  old  Boston  mansion  was  fittingly  termed 
by  Bertram,  the  youngest  of  the  brothers.  But  Billy  grows  up, 
and  almost  before  she  herself  realizes  it  a  romance  has  entered 
her  life  —  one  of  those  charming  and  refreshing  romances  which 
strike  a  sympathetic  chord  in  the  hearts  of  its  readers  and  bring 
back  fond  memories  of  "  the  glamour  and  joys  of  youth." 

THE  RED  FOX'S  SON 

By  EDGAR  M.  DILLEY. 

Cloth,  12mo.    With  a  frontispiece  in  color  by  John  Goss     $1.50 

Picturesque  Bharbazonia  —  a  province  of  the  Balkan  peninsula 

—  is  the  setting  for  this  sparkling  "  Zenda  "  novel,  which  quite 
surpasses  the  regulation  story  of  modern  mystery  and  adventure, 
when  the  dashing  young  American  goes  to  the  mythical,  but 
interesting  Balkan  State,  and  creates  havoc  in  the  hearts  of  the 
Slavs,  himself  becoming  a  slave  to  the  beautiful  princess  of  the 
country.    It  is  a  romance  rich  in  exciting  detail,  and  has  glamour, 
dash,  vivacity  and  spirit  of  the  most  pleasing  order.     In  every 
page  of  "  The  Red  Fox's  Son  "  the  fiction  lover  will  find  fascina 
ting  reading. 


LIST  OF  NEW  FICTION 


GEORGE   THORNE 

By  NORVAL  RICHARDSON,  author  of  the  big  Southern  novel  — 

"  The  Lead  of  Honour,"  already  in  its  sixth  large  printing. 

Frontispiece  in  full  color,  decorative  jacket,  cloth,  12mo. 

Net  $1.25  (carriage,  12c.  extra) 

Mr.  Richardson's  new  story  is  striking  in  thought  and  treat 
ment.  Taking  a  man  from  the  rubbish  heap  of  poverty,  the 
author  places  him  in  surroundings  of  wealth  and  refinement,  and 
then  traces  the  effect  of  the  new  influences  upon  his  character. 

Of  "  The  Lead  of  Honour  "  the  critics  have  written  as  follows: 

"  '  The  Lead  of  Honour '  cannot  but  make  those  who  read  it 
better  pleased  with  life  and  with  humanity  (the  which  is  much)." 
—  Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 

"  Mr.  Richardson  has  given  us  a  story  which  is  well  worth 
the  perusal."  —  Boston  Transcript. 

"  A  story  of  much  more  than  usual  merit.  It  is  seldom  that 
one  turns  away  from  a  work  of  fiction  with  more  reluctance  to 
part  company  with  its  people  and  with  a  greater  impetus  towards 
one's  own  best."  —  Boston  Herald. 

"  It  is  rarely  that  a  love  story  is  written  in  these  days  that  has 
in  it  so  much  of  pure  and  lofty  sentiment,  of  so  high  ideals  and 
so  absorbing  in  its  romance  that  the  reader  for  the  time  is  lifted 
out  of  himself.  It  is  a  novel  which  really  stands  on  a  pinnacle 
as  contrasted  with  much  of  the  current  fiction  of  the  day."  — 
Springfield  Union. 

"  Mr.  Richardson  has  an  excellent  style,  a  gift  of  character- 
drawing  and  much  emotional  power."  —  Providence  Journal. 

DIONIS  OF  THE  WHITE  VEIL 

By  CAROLINE  BROWN,  author  of  "  Knights  of  Fustian,"  "  On 

the  We-A  Trail,"  etc. 

Cloth,  12mo,  illustrated,  decorative  jacket  .        .        .        $1.50 

A  romance  of  the  early  days  of  the  eighteenth  century,  with 
the  scenes  for  the  most  part  laid  in  the  region  bordering  the 
Mississippi,  from  Louisiana  north  towards  the  Illinois  country. 

When  the  gay  and  handsome  Chevalier  Fauchet  first  sets  eyes 
upon  the  heroine,  Dionis  Montfort,  she  has  entered  upon  her 
novitiate,  and  is  to  take  the  vows  of  a  nun  in  less  than  a  week's 
time.  Fauchet,  a  universal  lover,  gallant  always,  serious  never, 
is  attracted  by  the  demure  and  innocent  novice,  at  first  because 
of  her  beauty;  but  later  when  he  realizes  that  it  is  real  affection 
he  feels  for  the  girl,  the  Chevalier  determines  that  the  Church 
must  fight  him  for  her  life's  devotion.  How  fate  throws  the 
two  together,  allowing  love  finally  to  triumph  over  the  Church, 
makes  a  romance  remarkable  in  its  consistent  and  absorbing 
charm. 


L.    C.   PAGE   <Sr»    COMPANY'S 


THE   CASE  OF   PAUL   BREEN 

By  ANTHONY  TUDOR,  LL.B. 

Cloth,  12rno,  illustrated  by  Henry  Roth,  decorative  jacket. 

$1.50 

A  positive,  strong  human  novel,  the  story  of  an  innocent  man 
caught  in  the  legal  meshes  of  circumstantial  evidence.  The 
plot  is  new  and  its  development  most  striking,  while  the  story 
is  handled  throughout  in  masterly  and  dignified  fashion  by  a 
writer  whose  style  is  at  all  times  convincing  and  forceful.  He 
has  had  the  courage  to  go  right  to  the  heart  of  things,  and  bare 
for  his  readers'  gaze  the  very  souls  of  his  characters.  It  is  a 
powerful  work  —  one  which  will  probably  be  called  a  "  bold 
novel,"  and  not  only  is  it  of  intense  interest,  but  it  is  a  story 
which  furnishes  much  food  for  thought. 

THE  RED-HOT  DOLLAR 

By  H.  D.  UMBSTABTTEU. 

Cloth  decorative $1.00 

For  three  reasons  this  little  book  will  arouse  interest.  First, 
because  of  the  stories  themselves,  next,  because  their  author, 
H.  D.  Umbstaetter,  is  the  founder  and  publisher  of  The  Black 
Cat,  which,  to  quote  the  New  York  Tribune,  "  has  done  more  for 
short-story  readers  and  short-story  writers  than  any  other 
periodical,"  and  last,  but  not  least,  because  of  the  unique  intro 
duction  by  Jack  London.  Only  once  in  a  long  time  do  we  come 
across  such  a  unique  collection  of  stories  as  Mr.  Umbstaetter's, 
containing  as  it  does  stories  that  are  clever  in  conception,  well- 
written  and  just  the  right  length  to  be  entertaining,  and  as  Mr. 
London  aptly  says,  stories  that  are  true  Black  Cat  stories. 

The  stories,  twelve  in  all,  are  so  absorbingly  interesting  and  so 
unusual  in  the  realm  of  fiction,  embodying  as  they  do  amusing 
character  sketches,  tales  of  humor,  pathos,  mystery  and  adven 
ture,  that  they  will  undoubtedly  appeal  to  a  large  class  of  readers 
who  are  not  attracted  to  the  ordinary  in  fiction. 


Selections  from 
L.  C.  Page  and  Company's 
List  of  Fiction 


WORKS  OF 

ROBERT  NEILSON  STEPHENS 

Each  one  vol.,  library  V2,mo,  cloth  decorative          ,         „       $1.50 

THE  FLIGHT  OF  GEORGIANA 

A  ROMANCE  OF  THE  DAYS  OF  THE  YOUNG  PRETENDER.  Illus 
trated  by  H.  C.  Edwards. 

"  A  love-story  in  the  highest  degree,  a  dashing  story,  and  a  re 
markably  well  finished  piece  of  work."  —  Chicago  Record-Herald. 

THE  BRIGHT  FACE  OF  DANGER 

Being  an  account  of  some  adventures  of  Henri  de  Launay,  son 
of  the  Sieur  de  la  Tournoire.  Illustrated  by  H.  C.  Edwards. 
"  Mr.  Stephens  has  fairly  outdone  himself.  We  thank  him 

heartily.    The  story  is  nothing  if  not  spirited  and  entertaining, 

rational  and  convincing."  —  Boston  Transcript. 

THE  MYSTERY  OF  MURRAY  DAVENPORT 

(40th  thousand.) 

"  This  is  easily  the  best  thing  that  Mr.  Stephens  has  yet  done. 
Those  familiar  with  his  other  novels  can  best  judge  the  measure 
of  this  praise,  which  is  generous."  —  Buffalo  News, 

CAPTAIN  &AVENSHAW 

OR,  THE  MAID  OF  CHEAPSIDE.  (52d  thousand.)  A  romance 
of  Elizabethan  London.  Illustrations  by  Howard  Pyle  and 
other  artists. 

Not  since  the  absorbing  adventures  of  D'Artagnan  have  we  had 
anything  so  good  in  the  blended  vein  of  romance  and  comedy. 

THE  CONTINENTAL  DRAGOON 

A   ROMANCE   OF  PHILIPSE   MANOR   HOUSE   IN   1778.     (53d 
thousand.)     Illustrated  by  H.  C.  Edwards. 
A  stirring  romance  of  the  Resolution,  with  its  scenes  laid  on 
neutral  territory. 


L.  C.  PAG*.  &  COMPANY'S 


PHILIP  WINWOOD 

(70th  thousand.)  A  Sketch  of  the  Domestic  History  of  an 
American  Captain  in  the  War  of  Independence,  embracing 
events  that  occurred  between  and  during  the  years  1763  ana 
1785  in  New  York  and  London.  Illustrated  by  E.  W.  D 
Hamilton 

AN  ENEMY  TO  THE  KING 

(70th  thousand.)  From  the  "  Recently  Discovered  Memoir* 
of  the  Sieur  de  la  Tournoire."  Illustrated  by  H.  De  M.  Young 
An  historical  romance  of  the  sixteenth  century,  describing  the 

adventures  of  a  young  French  nobleman  at  the  court  of  Henry 

III.,  and  on  the  field  with  Henry  IV. 

THE  ROAD  TO  PARIS 

A  STORY  OP  ADVENTURE.     (35th  thousand.)     Illustrated  by 

H.  C.^Edwards 

An  historical  romance  of  the  eighteenth  century,  being  an 
account  of  the  life  of  an  American  gentleman  adventurer  of 
Jacobite  ancestry, 

A  GENTLEMAN  PLAYER 

His  ADVENTURES  ON  A  SECRET  MISSION  FOR  QUEEN  ELIZA' 
BETH.     (48th  thousand.)     Illustrated  by  Frank  T.  Merrill. 
The  story  of  a  young  gentleman  who  joins  Shakespeare's  com 
pany  of  players,  and  becomes  a  friend  and  prot6g6  of  the  greal 
poet 

CLEMENTINA'S  HIGHWAYMAN 

Cloth  decorative,  illustrated $1.50 

Mr.  Stephens  has  put  into  his  new  book,  "  Clementina's  High 
wayman,"  the  finest  qualities  of  plot,  construction,  and  literary 
finish. 

The  story  is  laid  in  the  mid-Georgian  period.  It  is  a  dashing, 
sparkling,  vivacious  comedy,  with  a  heroine  as  lovely  and 
changeable  as  an  April  day,  and  a  hero  all  ardor  and  daring. 

TALES  FROM  BOHEMIA 

Illustrated  by  Wallace  Goldsmith 

Cloth,  decorative  cover $1.50 

These  bright  and  clever  tales  deal  with  people  of  the  theatre 
and  odd  characters  in  other  walks  of  life  which  fringe  on  Bohemia 


LIST  OF  FICTION 


WORKS  OF 

CHARLES  G.  D.  ROBERTS 

HAUNTERS  OF  THE  SILENCES 

Cloth,  one  volume,  with  many  drawings  by  Charles  Livingston 
Bull,  four  of  which  are  in  full  color         .        .        .        .      $2.00 
The  stories  in  Mr.  Roberta's  new  collection  are  the  strongest  and 
best  he  has  ever  written. 

He  has  largely  taken  for  his  subjects  those  animals  rarely  met 
with  in  books,  whose  lives  are  spent  "  In  the  Silences,"  where  they 
are  the  supreme  rulers.    Mr.  Roberts  has  written  of  them  sympa 
thetically,  as  always,  but  with  fine  regard  for  the  scientific  truth. 
"  As  a  writer  about  animals,  Mr.  Roberts  occupies  an  enviable 


and 


e.    He  is  the  most  literary,  as  well  as  the  most  imaginative 
vivid  of  all  the  nature  writers."  —  Brooklyn  Eagle, 


RED  FOX 

THE  STORY  OF  His  ADVENTUROUS  CAREER  IN  THE  RINGWAAK 
WILDS,  AND  OF  His  FINAL  TRIUMPH  OVER  THE  ENEMIES  OF 
His  KIND.  With  fifty  illustrations,  including  frontispiece  in 
color  and  cover  design  by  Charles  Livingston  Bull. 

Square  quarto,  cloth  decorative $2.00 

"  True  in  substance  but  fascinating  as  fiction.  It  will  interest 
old  and  young,  city-bound  and  free-footed,  those  who  know  ani 
mals  and  those  who  do  not."  —  Chicago  Record-Herald. 

"  A  brilliant  chapter  in  natural  history."  —  Philadelphia  North 
American. 

THE  KINDRED  OF  THE  WILD 

A  BOOK  OF  ANIMAL  LIFE.  With  fifty-one  full-page  plates  and 
many  decorations  from  drawings  by  Charles  Livingston  Bull 

Square  quarto,  decorative  cover $2.00 

"  Is  in  many  ways  the  most  brilliant  collection  of  animal  stories 
that  has  appeared;  well  named  and  well  done."  —  John  Bur 
roughs. 

THE  WATCHERS  OF  THE  TRAILS 

A  companion  volume  to  "  The  Kindred  of  the  Wild."    Witb 
forty-eight  full-page  plates  and  many  decorations  from  draw 
ings  by  Charles  Livingston  Bull. 
Square  quarto,  decorative  cover      .....      $2.00 


L.  C.  PAGE  &*  COMPANY'S 


"  These  stories  are  exquisite  in  their  refinement,  and  yet  robust 
in  their  appreciation  of  some  of  the  rougher  phases  of  woodcraft. 
Among  the  many  writers  about  animals,  Mr.  Roberts  occupies  an 
enviable  place."  —  The  Outlook. 

"  This  is  a  book  full  of  delight.  An  additional  charm  lies  in  Mr. 
Bull's  faithful  and  graphic  illustrations,  which  in  fashion  all  their 
own  tell  the  story  of  the  wild  life,  illuminating  and  supplementing 
the  pen  pictures  of  the  author."  —  Literary  Digest. 

THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  WATER 

With  thirty  full-page  illustrations  by  Charles  Livingston  Bull 
and  Frank  Vining  Smith.  Cover  design  and  decorations  by 
Charles  Livingston  Bull. 

12mo,  cloth  decorative $1.50 

"  Every  paragraph  is  a  splendid  picture,  suggesting  in  a  few 

words  the  appeal  of  the  vast,   illimitable  wilderness."  —  Tlv> 

Chicago  Tribune. 

THE  HEART  THAT  KNOWS 

Library  12mo,  cloth,  decorative  cover    .        .        .        .      $1.50 

"  A  novel  of  singularly  effective  strength,  luminous  in  literary 

color,  rich  in  its  passionate,  yet  tender  drama." — New  York  Globe. 

EARTH'S  ENIGMAS 

A  new  edition  of  Mr.  Roberts's  first  volume  of  fiction,  pub 
lished  in  1892,  and  out  of  print  for  several  years,  with  the  addi 
tion  of  three  new  stories,  and  ten  illustrations  by  Charles 
Livingston  Bull. 

Library  12mo,  cloth,  decorative  cover   ....      $1.50 
"  It  will  rank  high  among  collections  of  short  stories.     In 
'  Earth's  Enigmas  '  is  a  wider  range  of  subject  than  in  the  '  Kin 
dred  of  the  Wild.'  "  —  Review  from  advance  sheets  of  the  illustrated 
edition  by  Tiffany  Blak"  in  the  Chicago  Evening  PosL 

BARBARA  LADD 

With  four  illustrations  by  Frank  Verbeck* 
Library  12mo,  cloth,  decorative  cover  ....      $1.50 
"  From  the  opening  chapter  to  the  final  page  Mr.  Roberts  lures 
us  on  by  his  rapt  devotion  to  the  changing  aspects  of  Nature  and 
by  his  keen  and  sympathetic  analysis  of  human  character."  — 
Boston  Transcript. 


LIST  OF  FICTION 


CAMERON    OF    LOCHIEL 

Translated  from  the  French  of  Philippe  Aubert  de  Gaspe1,  with 

frontispiece  in  color  by  H.  C.  Edwards. 

Library  12mo,  cloth  decorative $1.50 

"  Professor  Roberts  deserves  the  thanks  of  his  reader  for  giving 
a  wider  audience  an  opportunity  to  enjoy  this  striking  bit  of 
French  Canadian  literature."  —  Brooklyn  Eagle. 

THE    PRISONER    OF    MADEMOISELLE 

With  frontispiece  by  Frank  T.  Merrill. 

Library  12mo,  cloth  decorative $1.50 

A  tale  of  Acadia,  —  a  land  which  is  the  author's  heart's  delight, 

—  of  a  valiant  young  lieutenant  and  a  winsome  maiden,  who  first 

captures  and  then  captivates. 

THE  HEART  OF  THE  ANCIENT  WOOD 

With  six  illustrations  by  James  L.  Weston. 

Library  12mo,  decorative  cover $1.50 

"  One  of  the  most  fascinating  novels  of  recent  days."  —  Boston 
Journal. 

"  A  classic  twentieth-century  romance."  —  New  York  Commer 
cial  Advertiser. 

THE    FORGE    IN    THE    FOREST 

Being  the  Narrative  of  the  Acadian  Ranger,  Jean  de  Mer, 
Seigneur  de  Briart,  and  how  he  crossed  the  Black  Abbe",  and 
of  his  adventures  in  a  strange  fellowship.  Illustrated  by  Henry 
Sandham,  R.  C.  A. 

Library  12mo,  cloth  decorative  .....  $1.50 
A  story  of  pure  love  and  heroic  adventure. 

BY    THE    MARSHES    OF    MINAS 

Library  12mo,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated  *.  .  $1.50 
Most  of  these  romances  are  in  the  author's  lighter  and  more 

playful  vein;    each  is  a  unit  of  absorbing  interest  and  exquisite 

workmanship. 

A    SISTER    TO    EVANGELINE 

Being  the  Story  of  Yvonne  de  Lamourie,  and  how  she  went  into 
exile  with  the  villagers  of  Grand  Pre. 

Library  12mo,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated    .        .        .      $1.50 
Swift  action,  fresh  atmosphere,  wholesome  purity,  deep  pas 
sion,  and  searching  analysis  characterize  this  strong  novel. 


L.    C.   PAGE    <5-    COMPANY'S 


WORKS  OF 

L.  M.  MONTGOMERY 
ANNE   OF  GREEN   GABLES 

Illustrated  by  M.  A.  and  W.  A.  J.  Glaus.  12mo  .  $1.50 
"  Anne  of  Green  Gables  "  is  beyond  question  the  most  popular 
girl  heroine  in  recent  years.  Poets,  statesmen,  humorists,  critics, 
and  the  great  public  have  lost  their  hearts  to  the  charming  Anne. 
"  Anne  of  Green  Gables  "  is  not  a  book  of  a  season,  to  attain  a 
wide  popularity  for  a  brief  space  and  sink  into  oblivion  with  many 
another  "  best  seller,"  but  its  literary  merit  is  such  that  it  is 
bound  to  have  a  permanent  place  in  literature  and  continue  to 
increase  in  popularity  with  each  succeeding  season. 

"  In  '  Anne  of  Green  Gables  '  you  will  find  the  dearest  and  most 
moving  and  delightful  child  since  the  immortal  Alice."  —  Mark 
Twain  in  a  letter  to  Francis  Wilson. 

ANNE  OF  AVONLEA 

Illustrated  by  George  Gibbs.     12mp     .        .       .        .        $1.50 

In  this  volume  Anne  is  as  fascinating  as  ever,  and  the  author 
has  introduced  several  new  characters,  including  the  highly 
imaginative  and  charming  little  boy,  Paul  Irving,  whose  quaint 
sayings  will  recall  to  the  reader  the  delightful  Anne  on  her  first 
appearance  at  Green  Gables. 

"  Here  we  have  a  book  as  human  as  '  David  Harum,'  a  heroine 
who  outcharms  a  dozen  princesses  of  fiction,  and  reminds  you 
of  some  sweet  girl  you  know,  or  knew  back  in  the  days  when  the 
world  was  young  and  you  threw  away  your  sponge  that  you 
might  have  to  borrow  hers  to  clean  your  slate."  —  San  Francisco 
Bulletin. 

"  A  book  to  hit  the  spirit  and  send  the  pessimist  into  bank 
ruptcy!  "  — -  Meredith  Nicholson. 

KILMENY   OF   THE   ORCHARD 

Illustrated  by  George  Gibbs $1.25 

"  '  Kilmeny  of  the  Orchard  '  is  a  book  of  rare  quality,  difficult 
to  describe  but  evident  to  those  who  have  eyes  to  see."  —  The 
Bookshelf. 

"  '  Kilmeny  of  the  Orchard  '  is  a  story  born  in  the  heart  of 
Arcadia  and  brimful  of  the  sweet  and  simple  life  of  the  primitive 
environment."  —  Boston  Herald. 

"  '  Kilmeny  of  the  Orchard '  is  a  story  of  decidedly  unusual 
conception  and  interest,  and  will  rival  this  author's  earlier  works 
in  popularity."  — Kalamazoo  Evening  Press. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


rm  L9-Series  4939 


001  247  899 


PS 

3539 
T8102 


